


The Homecoming Countdown

by princessamaterasu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Band Fic, Concussions, Dedication, F/M, Football, Friendship, High School, Homecoming, Marching Band, Music, Pride, Reader-Insert, Romance, Tailgating, athletics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 29,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessamaterasu/pseuds/princessamaterasu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're in band, and he's in football. He's a star quarterback, and you're just a nobody. Fate and an interesting bet bring the two of you together one day, and no one could have predicted the outcome. Will the two of you be able to push past differences and make homecoming a success this year? America x Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Hetalia is not my creation :(
> 
> Just a heads up to anyone reading this that I understand not everyone does band. I'll try to keep the band lingo to a minimum and do my best to explain as I go. Sorry if band isn't really your thing *bows*

West High is not a place for slackers. Nobody here goes halfway. The unspoken motto is "Go Big, or Go Home". Almost all of the sports teams make it to state, and most make it into the finals. Many of our competitive clubs go all the way to nationals. If you're not willing to go 100%, you're better off not trying at all.

That's the kind of school I go to. My name is (y/n). I bet you're dying to know what kind of sports I do, or how many times I've gone to nationals with the debate team. I'm sorry if I disappoint anyone when I say I haven't done any of those things. My true passion is not scoring points, or ranking the highest. The thing I love to do is march.

Let me explain a few things before people start to think I'm a complete nut. I'm with the school band. We don't compete for state or national titles, and we don't get gigantic trophies to display in those glass cases all over the school halls. That doesn't mean we don't work as hard as any sports team or club. In fact, I'd bet we work harder than half the groups in our school in the two weeks before Homecoming than they do most of the year.

I get it, I'm a band geek. I wear the name with pride. I guess what I'm getting at is that things get pretty intense at West High right before Homecoming, which is when this whole thing goes down. There's a certain football player who makes kind of a bet with me, and, well it'll be easier to explain if I just get to the story.

I know that not everyone is as big into band as me, but there's more to this story than that. It's about passion, trust, and maybe there's a little (or a lot) of romance involved.

The countdown begins two weeks before the big Homecoming football game.


	2. Day 14

"Dang it, dang it, dang it!"

I walk as fast as I can down the hallway without running. If only I had done better on that math test the first time around, then I wouldn't be late for rehearsal. I turn the corner and run head first into something solid.

"Ow! What the-" I don't finish my sentence when I see what I ran into. My eyes meet with the bright blue ones of Alfred F. Jones. Yes, he insists on the F. He also happens to be our school's star quarterback. 

"Hey! You're (y/n)!" he says.

That's weird, I don't remember ever telling him my name. "Uh yeah, I'd love to talk, but I'm late for practice. See ya." I maneuver around him and continue down the hall at my fast pace.

"Practice?" Alfred asks following me. Apparently he didn't get the hint to get lost. "I didn't know you're involved in a sport."

"I'm not."

"Then some kind of club?" he asks, still following me. Boy, is he persistent. No wonder he gets on Arthur's nerves.

"I guess you can say that," I mumble. I'm starting to lose my patience with this kid. I round the last corner before the music hallway.

"Well what is it?"

I clench my teeth, and reply the best I can without sounding too hostile. "Why don't you stick around for it and you'll see?"

"Can I?"

I decide it's better not to answer as I walk through the double doors to the band room. I see the drum majors addressing the band. Crap, I'm definitely late. I look around and see Mr. Rome standing in the back of the room by the drums. He's a big patron of the arts, but he's also kind of weird guy. That's probably why he fits in so well with the band. 

I make my way over to him. "Sorry I'm late. I had to make up a test."

Mr. Rome just waves it off. "No biggie. Just set up and sit with your section," he says in a low voice. "The drum majors are just giving the band a few pointers."

I don't say anything back, but on the inside I groan. Mr. Rome calls it 'giving pointers' but I call it 'being nit picky with a large dose of OCD'. It's not fun being told what you're doing wrong, or not doing up to standard, but it's a necessary part of improving as a band. I walk over to my locker as inconspicuously as possible, and pull out my large instrument case. I may play an alto sax and not a tenor, but its case is still bulky.

"Where were you?" Arthur whispers to me when I sit down.

"I had to make up a test," I whisper back. "And I ran into your cousin."

Arthur's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything back. I point to the doorway where Alfred is standing and watching. Arthur turns to look, and doesn't seem too happy about it. "Why is that git here?"

"He wanted to know what I was in such a rush for," I explain quietly, "so I told him to come find out."

I don't get to explain further since one of the drum majors comes over and tells me to shut up and listen. After what seems like forever, we finally get to do something other than get scolded at. Mr. Rome gets on the podium and tells everyone to put their music away because today is going to be all from memory.

Several kids look panicked, and a few of them try to place their music on the floor in such a way that they can still reference it when necessary. Those are the underclassmen. The upperclassmen all know this is coming. I made a point to warn my section that they better have their music memorized as soon as they can. 

I guess I should explain that when I say my section I mean it, like it literally belongs to me. I'm a section leader, so it practically does belong to me. Me and Arthur. The saxophone section is the only one with two leaders because it's so flipping big. The others only have one.

"Oh, before I forget," Mr. Rome says from the front, "the lovely ladies of the color guard are dismissed to practice their routines outside." Lili and her section stand up and exit the room, grabbing their equipment as they do.

I watch them leave, and notice Alfred is still standing there watching. He's not planning on staying is he, I wonder. I really hope not. Mr. Rome raises his hand to signal we're about to play, and the drum majors copy him. We spend the next couple of hours rehearsing our music for the Homecoming fieldshow. By the end of rehearsal, almost everyone has the music memorized note for note. Mr. Rome praises everyone and then dismissed us. 

"Listen up saxes!" Arthur calls out to your section. "We have an extra sectional at my house this Sunday at 2:00. Don't be late," he says with a pointed look at me.

"Hey! This was a one time thing!" I retort. 

I pack up quickly and put my instrument away. These after school rehearsals can feel so long sometimes. I pull my phone out of my backpack as I walk out the band room doors to call my parents, when it's suddenly snatched out of my hand.

"Hey!" I look up to see that is none other than Alfred who has grabbed my phone. "Give that back! What are you still doing here anyway?"

Alfred holds my phone high enough that I can't reach it and starts fiddling with it. "You invited me to watch, so I did. " He pulls out his phone and starts doing something on that too.

"What are you doing to my phone?" My anger's rising by the second.

"Something you'll thank me for later."

That does it. I snatch my phone back and storm towards the doors leading outside, and most importantly, away from him. "Leave me alone you ignorant buffoon!"

I lean against the wall of the school when I get outside. I check my phone to see that it's 7:30. Rehearsal started at 5:00. School lets out at 3:00, but I had spent the time between then and 5:00 working on my math test. I felt so bad for my teacher who had to wait while I finished, but she said it was fine and that she stays at school that late sometimes anyway. I still felt bad. I just really suck at math.

The door opens and Alfred walks outside. "Dude, what's got you so upset?"

I sigh and slip my phone into my backpack. I guess there's no escaping him. "Nothing. It's just been a crazy day."

"Well at least you got to relax with your music," Alfred says smiling. He probably meant well with that comment.

"Relax? That wasn't relaxing. We were working hard in there."

"Oh," Alfred says in confusion. "I always thought band was one of those easy classes."

"Are you kidding me?" I'm not really mad. I can't help the fact that he's ignorant. "We work just as hard as you and your team."

"Is that so?" he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. "You wanna bet?"

I can't let this chance to prove Alfred F. Jones, king of the football field, wrong. "You're on," I say, and put out my hand for him to shake. He does, and then tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip. "That means you have to come to all of our practices," I inform him with a mischievous grin.

"I guess you're right."

"That means you'll be here tomorrow at 5:00."

His eyes widen a little. "You guys practice on Saturday too?"

"And everyday after school during the week. Homecoming is only two weeks away after all." The look on his face is enough to make up for him ticking me off earlier. I've already got this bet in the bag. I finally let go of his hand.

He pulls it back quickly like he's afraid I'm going to change my mind and grab it again. "What are you doing now?" he asks when he sees me pull out my phone again. 

"Calling my parents. I need to be picked up."

"I'll take you home." I look up in surprise. Alfred's offering to take me home? This is unexpected.

"I guess it would be faster..."

"Great!" he says and starts walking. "I'm parked over here, (y/n)!"

I follow him to his car, or should I say truck, and get in the passenger seat. He gets the engine going and pulls out of his spot. The drive to my house is a quiet one. The only time I really talk is when I tell him where to turn. I look over at him once, and I'm nearly blinded by the reflection of an oncoming car's headlights off of his glasses. I keep my eyes on the road after that. 

We finally arrive at my house. I get out of his truck and pause before I close the door. "What did you do to my phone earlier?" My curiosity's getting the better of me.

"Just wait and see," he says. Then he winks at me.

I slam the door in his face.

Later, after Alfred's left, I'm sitting in my room doing homework when my phone vibrates. I pick up my phone expecting a text from Arthur, or maybe Vash, the clarinet section leader. We're pretty good friends since we have similar personalities. Arthur says we're both hot heads.

I stare at my phone in confusion for a solid minute before my brain can register what I'm seeing. My touch phone's backlight has darkened since I haven't touched it yet, but I can still make out the name Alfred F. Jones on the screen. So that's what he was doing on my phone. I debate for another minute whether I should open the text or not. I finally decide that it can't hurt, and hit 'view now'.

[ hey dude! since ur making me come to ur practices u gotta come to some of mine 2 :D ]

I look at the bottom of the text and see what I assume is his signature. He signs all of his texts 'the Hero'. How typical. I imagine sitting outside on cold, hard bleachers watching big guys running around slapping each others butts. What have I gotten myself into?


	3. Day 13

They say you learn something new everyday. Today, I learned that I really, really, really don't like sitting outside, in the cold, on hard bleachers. But, I had to prove to a certain someone that I don't go back on my word.

Alfred's football practice is at 10:00 in the morning. I have to give them credit for their commitment. You'd have to drag most high schoolers out of bed by their ankles this early in the morning. Some of the guys don't look happy to be out here, and I don't blame them. It's been getting chillier and chillier as the season slowly transitions to fall. It stays pretty nippy out until mid afternoon. 

I recognize Alfred on the field immediately. His cowlick pokes out of the front of his helmet. I assume the guy walking next to him is his brother, Matthew, because I can see a long curly hair sticking out of his helmet. I also think I recognize the two "Potato Brothers" as they've been dubbed at school. Gilbert and Ludwig Beilschmidt got their nickname because of the way they eat their potatoes. They mash them up, whether it's french fries, tater tots, or potato wedges. They claim it's traditional where they come from.

The coach blows his whistle, and the players form a huddle around him. Coach Germania and Mr. Rome are actually friends. Well, more like frenemies. Coach Germania thinks Mr. Rome is too eccentric and hyper, while Mr. Rome thinks the coach is too serious and mean. They still spend quite a bit of time together though. 

My thoughts are disrupted by the team cheering as they move into position for their first play. Alfred is, of course, the quarterback, and receives the hiked ball smoothly. He manages to connect with Matthew who's open for a 50 yard pass. The offense makes a touchdown within the next down. I've heard rumors that Alfred and his brother are an unstoppable duo. The elder brother is the star quarterback, and the younger brother is an amazing wide receiver who can catch anything Alfred throws his way. It's pretty cool to see them in action.

I'm not a huge football fan like my dad, but I know what's what in a game. It comes naturally after listening to my dad, and watching countless games on tv with him. He used to coach football here a long time ago. I'm pretty sure he's disappointed he doesn't have any sons to play for the school and continue the legacy, but he does his best with what he has, which is me and my younger sister. 

The team scrimmages for an hour, then they break up into offense and defense to do different drills. I brought some homework with me to do while they drill. It's not as interesting as the scrimmage. I look up once from my English assignment to see a player waving at me. I wave back when I see the blonde cowlick peeking up out of his helmet. Alfred runs to join the rest of the team. 

I finish my homework before practice ends. I check my iPod for the time. It's 12:45, so there's 15 minutes left of their practice. The team spends that time doing running drills. Some players are better than that than others. I notice a smaller offensive player being yelled at by another larger player. The little guy has a long curl poking out of his helmet. He runs much faster after the scolding.

Coach Germania blows his whistle to signal the end of practice. The team gathers in one last huddle. I see Alfred in the middle with his helmet off leading the cheer.

"West on three!" he shouts loud enough for me to hear in the bleachers. All of the players put their hands into the circle. "One! Two! Three!"

"WEST!" the team roars. Everyone begins to walk away to grab their gear. I decide to go down to the field to say bye to Alfred before I leave. If I don't, he'll probably whine to me about it later.

"Hey (y/n)!" Alfred says in greeting. "How'd we do?" His hair is soaked in sweat even though it's not that warm out yet.

"You guys aren't half bad," I say.

"Are you kidding? We're awesome!" a player shouts as he walks by. He takes his helmet off, and I recognize him as a sweaty Gilbert.

"Fine. You guys are good. I'm especially impressed with your left offensive tackle."

Gilbert lets out a low whistle. "You know football," he says impressed. "Hey West! Get over here."

His brother, Ludwig, approaches the three of you. "What is it brother?"

"This is..." he pauses for my name.

"(Y/n)," I tell him.

"Okay. This is (y/n), and she thinks you're awesome at football!"

"Thank you (y/n)," Ludwig says with a small nod of his head.

Alfred leans against him with his elbow on the tall blonde's shoulder. "Well he's gotta be good since he's watching my blind spot," he says. "Plus he's co-captain of the team."

"Sweet," I say impressed.

"Please excuse me and my brother," Ludwig tells me and Alfred. "We need to be going." Then he grabs his brother, and the two walk away.

"I gotta get going too," I tell Alfred. I have stuff I have to do yet before my rehearsal tonight.

"Okay. I'll see you later, dude!" Alfred says with a smile.

I do my best to ignore the fact that he called me a dude. "Don't forget. Rehearsal is tonight at 5:00."

"Where?"

"Here," I answer. I point at the football field, which gets a confused look from Alfred. "Don't be late."

I arrive in the band room at 4:30 later that day. The section leaders and drum majors always arrive early to help set up and get special instructions from Mr. Rome. All he has for us to do is to take signs with the yard numbers on them up to the field and set them up. It's not that complicated of a job, but of course the section leader of the flutes makes a fuss.

"Why do we have to do this now?" Francis complain with a flip of his long blonde hair. "We can just set this up when we get here later."

"The reason we do it now is so we don't have to do it later," Arthur explains in a frustrated voice. He doesn't have much patience for Francis. "Practice runs smoother if we get these chores done now, but I wouldn't expect you to understand, frog."

"You want to challenge the beautiful me to a fight?" Francis threatens Arthur through clenched teeth.

"Bring it on, ugly!"

"Guys, knock it off," Elizabeta chides. The trumpet section leader smacks them both in the head with a sign. "You guys act like brats."

"We're supposed to work together," I add. "We're family." That's one of the band's philosophies.

"I guess you're right," Arthur mumbles.

We walk back to the band room once the signs are put up. People have started to arrive, so we quickly get our instruments out. At 4:55, Mr. Rome dismisses us for the field, and the frenzy begins. Each section runs out the door as fast as they can for the football field. Every year the sections compete for section of the year, and one of the best ways to show commitment is to hustle. 

The entire band is out on the field and ready to go by 5:00. The drum majors do last minute checks on the sound system they set up before giving the okay to start. Mr. Rome has us walk through the routine for our three show pieces. We have the movements written into our music, so we follow along to the drum majors counting beats over the speakers. We walk through the whole show once, and then focus on the first song. 

We start slow, then work our way up to the actual speed of the song. It doesn't take the band long to get a hold of it. One of the drum majors gets up on a stepladder at the 50 yard line. We're instructed to start from the beginning of the show, but this time we're going to play as we move. A nervous murmuring goes through the underclassmen. The section leaders help calm people down and get everyone in place. 

The first run doesn't go so well. We manage to end up where we're supposed to go, for the most part. We're split into four person squads consisting of members from our section. Each squad is led by the person in A position, who is usually an upperclassmen. Some of the squads don't move the right way, or at the right time, so our formations are sloppy. The music is also messy because we're trying to look for our cues on the paper while we move.

"Well, we know what we need to work on now, don't we?" Mr. Rome says to us over the speakers. "Let's break up into sectionals for 45 minutes to work stuff out, and then finish as a whole band."

"Saxophones!" I call. "Over to the end zone!"

I look over at bleachers and see Alfred sitting not far from where I was earlier in the day. He gives me a wave, which I return. I quickly switch my focus back to my section that is gathering around me. I don't want him to think I care or something. 

"Who's that?" Arthur asks me.

"Your cousin," I tell him.

"Who's his cousin?" one of the sophomores asks. 

"Alfred," I answer quickly. "Now I noticed that our-"

"Alfred? As in THE Alfred F. Jones?" the same sophomore asks.

"Yes," I say beginning to lose my patience. "So as I was saying, we need to make sure our timing is spot on when we move to each formation," I say over a group of sophomores squealing.

We work the piece until Arthur and I are satisfied that every member, A through D, of a squad knows when and where to move. We have a few minutes left, so I ask a drum major to conduct while we play the piece from memory. When we finish, it's time to get together as a band. We don't waste any time, and start again from the top. There's a lot of improvement all across the band. We're not ready for Homecoming yet, but we're getting there.

Mr. Rome has each of the drum majors go through things they think we need to work on. The one point the all strongly emphasize is music memorization. Even though we practiced it for all of rehearsal yesterday, we need to keep practicing so we can stop using our music as soon as possible.

"That's all for tonight," Mr. Rome says when the drum majors are done ranting. "Everyone be safe getting home."

"Saxes!" Arthur yells before they all run off. "Don't forget the sectional at my house tomorrow. We start at 2:00, and don't forget your folios," he says and holds up the item indicated. It's a rectangle of plastic a little bigger than a note card with rings to hold plastic sleeves. Music fills some of the sleeves in the folio while others are still empty. 

I walk with Arthur and Vash back to the band room. We go over rehearsal and things we need to improve in our sections. I put my instrument away as fast as I can. I turn on my heel, and run smack dab into Alfred.

"Mphfff!" I say into his solid chest. I do my best not to imagine running my hand down his finely toned muscles.

"Woah (y/n)!" Alfred says with a chuckle. "You gotta stop doing that."

"Then stop sneaking up on me!"

"So is this what most of your practices are like?" he asks as he follows me to the doors of the band room.

"Yeah, I guess." I push the double doors open and walk through. "It's still pretty rough though. We have around two weeks yet to make it perfect."

"I thought it wasn't that bad."

I turn to him and raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," he says, his smile starting to fade.

"Well I'll have you know that we only practiced one song today, and we usually do our three pieces memorized."

"Oh wow," he says surprised. "No kidding." I start to pull out my phone, but Alfred's hand stops me. "I'll give you a ride."

"Okay, thanks," I say. I didn't realize he was such a nice guy. I always thought he was annoying and conceited. 

The ride home is silent like last time, but Alfred breaks the silence. "How did you guys all get to the field at 5:00? I have to pull teeth to get the team together on time."

"Well," I begin, "Mr. Rome always says 'Early is on time, and on time is late'. The band lives by that rule."

"That's pretty nifty," Alfred says. "I'm gonna have to use that with the team."

"Good luck with that," I mumble.

"You don't think that highly of us, do you (y/n)?"

"I never said that!" I say embarrassed. It's weird how he can tell what I'm thinking.

"You don't need to. I can read your face like a book dude!" he says in an amused voice. "But seriously, we're not ignorant buffoons." He uses your words against you.

"I'm sorry I called you that," I softly apologize. I'm not so good with admitting I'm wrong. 

"Don't worry about it, hun."

I blush when he uses a pet name. I'm not that great with people showing any forms of affection. Alfred's truck comes to a stop in my driveway. "Thanks for the ride," I say as I quickly exit the vehicle. I need to get away from Alfred and his charm as fast as I can. I close the door and head inside. I'm not going to be one of those girls who falls for the star football player. That's way to cliché.


	4. Day 12

I arrive at Arthur's house an hour before our section is due to show up. He and I like to get together before our sectionals to plan out what we want to work on. We also goof off too. Well, more like I goof off and Arthur tells me to calm down. He enjoys it in his own special way. But this rehearsal is different from any we've had before.

Everything starts off normal. People start to arrive at 1:45. Those are the freshman who want a little extra help with their music. I work with them while Arthur gets the door and ushers people to the backyard. I excuse the freshman to join everyone in the back at 5 to 2:00. I'm grab my instrument and am about to join them when the doorbell rings. I look at the door in confusion. Our entire section is already here, so who else could it be?

I open the door, then resist the urge to slam it shut. 

"Hey dude!"

"What are you doing here Alfred?" I practically scream at him.

"You said I have to come to your practices," he says with a grin. "So here I am!"

"H-how did you know how to get here? Or when?" I ask, trying to understand how this even happened.

"Arthur's my cousin, so of course I know where he lives, duh," he says with a roll of his eyes. "And I heard you guys announce it yesterday and Friday, or did you forget I was there?"

I do my best to hide my embarrassment. How could I forget such important details? "W-well just get inside," I manage to get out. I pull him inside and drag him through Arthur's house. "We're in the back, and you're late."

"Late? But it's 2:00."

"Early is on time, and on time is late, remember?"

"Oh right," he says with a nod.

Neither of us have a chance to say any more because we reach the backyard. Arthur turns to me to say something, but stops and stares with his mouth open when he sees his cousin. A group of sophomore girls squeal at Alfred's appearance as well.

"(Y/n), what is that-"

"Go sit over there, and don't say anything," I instruct Alfred, which cuts Arthur off.

"I'll explain later," I whisper to my irritated co-section leader.

We face our section and have them line up in ranks of five. The seniors, like me and Arthur, are the center people, the rest of the seniors and the juniors are the outside people, and everyone else fills in the inside. This forms several standard ranks for parade marching. We have the section run the parade music in their ranks first. Then we have them mark time, which is marching in place, as they play. Finally, we have them march around the house in their ranks while they play. They play from memory all the while.

"Alright good job everyone!" I praise. "We've improved our marching a lot, and I'm confident in our parade performance."

"We're sure to win section of the year this time!" an excited male senior shouts.

"We're going to end the sectional with music memorization. We'll stand in a circle and mark time while (y/n) claps behind us." Arthur instructs. 

Everyone does what he asks, and I stand behind everyone. I count off for the first song and walk behind my section. On every first and third beat of a measure, I clap my hands. This corresponds with when the members of my section are supposed to have their left feet flat on the ground. I stand behind a freshman longer than the others because she has her feet switched. My section plays through all three of the show pieces flawlessly.

"Good job today everyone!" I say with a big smile. "You've worked hard today."

"We'll show the low brass who's the boss in the band this year!" Arthur says with a smirk. Arthur's actually pretty good friends with Yao, the low brass section leader, but they've won for the last two years in a row, so it's our turn to shine.

Arthur's statement gets several excited shouts from our large section. "Make sure to practice anything you need to work on before tomorrow," I tell them. "You're all free to go. There's cookies in the kitchen." My section quickly files back into the house for said cookies. 

"How do you think it went (y/n)?" Arthur asks me as we watch our section.

"I think the low brass better watch out," I answer with a confident smile. 

"You guys look pretty scary when you march," Alfred says behind us.

Arthur and I both jump in surprise. We had forgotten he was even here. "Don't scare us you git!" Arthur yells at him.

"Sorry," Alfred replies as he scratches the back of his head. "But seriously, you guys look like you're going to a funeral."

"We have to," I explain. "The marching band is derived from the military, and to respect tradition, we remain stoic while at attention."

"Really? Sweet," he says with a wide grin.

"Not that you can comprehend what that means," Arthur mumbles under his breath. I cough to hide my laughter. "So (y/n), why is he here again?"

"We, uh...kind of made a bet of sorts," I try to explain.

"A bet," Arthur repeats as he raises an oversized eyebrow. His eyebrows are a "no go zone". Arthur's pretty self conscious, so no one's allowed to talk about them.

"Yeah, a bet."

"On what?" Arthur narrows his eyes suspiciously.

"Whether the band works as hard as the football team," I tell him.

Arthur laughs uncontrollably for a full minute. When he finally catches his breath, he says, "There's no way you can lose (y/n)!" I smile triumphantly.

"We'll just see about that," Alfred pipes in for the first time in a while.

The three of us walk inside to find an empty plate in the kitchen. "I guess it was a long shot to hope for there to be cookies to be left," I say disappointed.

Alfred perks up noticeably. "Wait here dudes! I got food in my truck." He runs out the door before either of us can respond. He bursts back through the door a moment later with a large McDonald's bag. "The car kept them nice and warm!"

Alfred begins to pull hamburger after hamburger out of the bag. The phrase 'hammer space' pops into my mind as he pulls a dozen hamburgers out of his bag. He throws a couple to me and Arthur, then unwraps one of his own and begins to munch on it. I turn to Arthur and shrug. It can't hurt to eat one. 

We move to Arthur's living room and settle down to watch tv. I usually hang out with Arthur after a sectional, but it's odd to have Alfred there. I look over at Alfred after finishing my burger, and notice he's still eating. Then I see the pile of burger wrappers next to him. Where does he have room for all that food?

He notices me staring and smiles. "I gotta eat a lot if I wanna keep these babies around." He flexes his biceps and winks.

I turn away to hide my blush. It's not fair that he can use his gorgeous body against me. Wait, did I just think he's gorgeous? I shake my head to clear all thoughts of Alfred out of my mind. I need to stop thinking about his soft blonde hair, his sparkling blue eyes, his cute-

"I-I need to go home!" I say as I jump up. "I have homework to do yet."

"Alright (y/n)," Arthur says with concern written on his face at my strange behavior. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure," I say and walk to the door. "See ya."

I close the door behind me and breathe a sigh of relief. Being in Alfred's presence is suffocating. He radiates energy and masculinity. Not to mention his overwhelming charm. I begin to walk to my house. I used to think Alfred and the football team were meatheads, but I guess I was wrong about that. Well, maybe not completely, I think when I remember Gilbert's behavior.

"(Y/n)!" I hear a voice call from the street. I turn to see Alfred in his truck driving slowly next to me. "You forgot your stuff at Arthur's."

I realize then what he said is true. I left my sax and music at Arthur's. If Alfred wasn't there, I would've facepalmed. "Oh," I say pathetically. "Well, hand them over."

Alfred stops his truck next to the curb. "Just hop in," he tells me with a grin. "I'll take you home."

I bite my lip. I just can't get away from him. "I only live a few blocks away," I say in hopes of getting rid of him.

"It's no big deal. I've got nothing else to do today anyway."

I sigh in defeat. There's no way I could refuse without looking rude. "Fine." I climb into Alfred's truck and put on my seat belt. "Buckle up or I'm getting out," I tell him.

"But it's only a few blocks," Alfred says with a sideways glance at me.

"I don't care, buckle up!" I reach over and grab his seat belt. At the same time, he reaches for it, and our hands brush.

I freeze at the contact. His hands are so big compared to mine, and covers mine completely. He holds onto my hand as he pulls the belt across his body. "I didn't know you we're so concerned about me," he says in a playful voice.

I pull my hand away as soon as he clicks the belt into the buckle. "Just drive," I command, and look out the window. I can't let him see me blushing like a girly girl. I'm not falling for Alfred.


	5. Day 11

The next day is back to school. I'm not a fan of Mondays. I don't think anyone is, and if they say they are I'll make sure they never say anything at all ever again. I'm feeling really out of it all day. I usually don't get peppy until band, and that's after lunch. It's lunch right now, and I'm sitting at my usual table with Arthur, Vash, and Lili.

"If you keep glaring at the back of that kid's head he'll probably drop dead," Arthur tells me. 

"Shut up," I say. "I just don't want to be here. School is such a drag sometimes."

"Well you better cheer yourself up before band. We'll never win section of the year if our section leader shows up grouchy."

"As if you guys would win," Vash says with a snort. "You'll never beat us clarinets."

His statement makes me perk up. "Is that a challenge?" The saxophones and the clarinets have an unofficial rivalry. It's been in place since the beginning of time, or some crap like that. Vash and I are good friends, but during marching season, it's war.

Vash is about to reply when he's interrupted. "Hey dudes!" Alfred plops himself down in a seat across from me.

"What in the bloody name of all that is holy are you doing here?" Arthur shouts.

"I'm just sitting with my friends," Alfred replies nonchalantly.

"Since when are we your friends?" Vash asks in a threatening way.

"Ever since (y/n) and I starting hanging out." Alfred takes a big bite out of a hamburger.

Vash and Arthur look at me accusingly. "Don't look at me! I didn't invite him here," I say in my defense.

Arthur grabs his tray and gets up. "Whatever. I'm going to go work on my music."

"I'll go too," Vash says and stands up. "Let's go Lili."

"Uh, okay," she says quietly. The two of them follow Arthur out.

"Great. Just great," I mumble to myself. Maybe this thing with Alfred is a mistake. I look up to notice Alfred has stopped eating. "What?"

"Your friends don't like me, do they?" he asks in a sad voice. I've never seen Alfred like this. He's always so happy.

"Well, it might not be you exactly," I tell him, trying to be tactful.

"Then what is it?" he demands.

"You're a football player," I say simply.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Most of us in the band don't think very highly of the football team," I explain.

"Because we're ignorant buffoons? Hulking Neanderthals? Brain dead meatheads?" he asks accusingly.

"No it's nothing like-"

"Then what?" Alfred's voice comes out harsh and demanding. I've never seen this side of him either.

"It's because everyone pays attention to you, but not to us," I say quietly.

"Oh," he says softly, his anger forgotten. "Really?"

"Yes," I tell him with a sigh. "No one notices us."

"That's not true!" Alfred insists.

"Oh yeah?" I raise my eyebrow at him. "What kind of songs do we play at the football games?"

"You guys are at our games?"

"That's exactly my point!" I say exasperated. "Everyone goes to those games to see you. They don't give a flying flip about us." I look him dead in the eyes. "That's why they don't like you."

"Oh," Alfred says in an unusually quiet voice. "I'm sorry." Is that a hint of shame in his voice?

"Ah, Alfred. Mind if I sit here, da?"

I look next to Alfred to see a big football player sit down. He has really fair blonde hair and purple eyes. I resist the urge to shudder. This guy is creepy.

"Oh, hi Ivan." Alfred looks over at me. "(Y/n), this is our defensive tackle, Ivan."

"Nice to meet you," I say politely.

Ivan gives me a quick glance. "You're that girl that was watching us practice the other day, da?" I'm surprised he recognized me. Perhaps I should feel creeped out that he noticed something like that. 

"Um, yeah."

Ivan nods. "I thought so." He takes a bite out of his sandwich. "Where are those three idiots?" he grumbles to himself and glanced around the cafeteria. He's completely ignoring me now. This guy is definitely weird.

"I should go find Arthur," I say to Alfred. "See ya."

"See you at practice tonight," Alfred's voice calls after you.

Tonight's rehearsal is rough. Mr. Rome drills us on our parade marching. Our extra sectional on Sunday really came in handy. We march around the parking lot to the drum line playing cadences. When the signal is given, they play a roll off, and we snap out instruments up to play our song. It seems fairly simple, but when you do it for an hour straight it becomes unbearable.

The drum majors finally halt the band with whistle commands, but they make us stand for a ridiculous length of time. My arms are shaking from the strain of holding my instrument parallel to the ground while we stand at attention. My neck is starting to cramp from the weight of my sax hanging from its neck strap. A saxophone is not a light instrument in the slightest, and it makes me want to strangle someone when I hear flutes complaining about carrying their instruments. They hardly weigh anything!

"At ease!" Mr. Rome tells us. A collective sigh of relief is released by the band as everyone lowers their arms. "You're all looking great out there, especially the saxes." Arthur and I give each other nods of acknowledgement. Section of the year, here we come. "I just want to work music memorization a little more, and that'll be it for tonight. You can all go home early." An excited murmuring ripples through the band. "Let's take a five minute break, then we'll meet back outside."

The band breaks up into smaller groups. Some are just friends talking while others make their way inside for the bathrooms. Some sections call their members together for a pep talk or extra practice. Arthur and I decide to let our section do whatever since they've worked so hard the last few days.

"We've got section of the year in the bag!" Arthur says as he gives me a high five.

"Totally!" I agree with a smug grin. Then we hear the low brass begin to practice their music. Arthur and I turn and glare at them. What a bunch of suck ups.

"Yao," Arthur growls. "We'll show him."

After our short break is over, the drum majors and Mr. Rome begin going through our music. No one is allowed to have their folios with them. The first few times through the songs sound pretty rough, but the third and fourth time through sound a lot better.

"I wanted to play outside so we can keep our volume in perspective," Mr. Rome explains when the band finishes rehearsing. "We sound louder inside because the walls trap our sound. I had us play outside so you could hear just how loud you're going to have to play to fill up the air out there. Now let's hear some pointers from the drum majors."

The drum majors say the same old stuff. Work memorization, better body posture, improve volume, the whole nine yards. When they're done talking we're dismissed for the evening. I pack my stuff up quickly and put it in my band locker. I say a quick goodbye to Arthur and scan the crowd. Where is Alfred?

I shake my head. Why should I care? I walk out the band room doors, and am about to leave the building, when I hear some giggling from behind me. I turn around to see some flute and color guard freshmen gathered in a group around Alfred. I almost turn around and leave them alone. Almost. The thing that stops me is how much it bugs me to see them fawning over Alfred like that. Before I can think about what I'm doing, I stomp over to the group.

"Hey!" I bark at them. "Rehearsal is over. Unless you feel like helping clean up, go home!" The girls scamper off in a hurry with their heads down. "Not you!" I say as I grab Alfred's arm when he tries to scurry past me. 

"Oh," he says and laughs. "I thought you were talking to me too." He laughs again. "You're kinda scary."

"Thank you. I do my best," I answer sarcastically. 

"So what's going on?" Alfred asks.

"Um, nothing." Now that I'd gotten rid of those flirts, I didn't really know what to say. "Rehearsal's over, so I guess you can um, you know, leave."

"Oh, cool," he says and grabs my hand. He starts pulling me toward the exit.

"What are you doing?" I practically shout at him. I'm not really used to guys just grabbing my hand whenever they feel like it.

"I'm taking you home," he replies, then frowns. "Is that bad?"

"Oh, uh...no. That's fine I guess." He begins to walk again. My brain turned to mush when he fixed those adorable puppy dog eyes on me. "S-stop that! Stop being so freaking charming all the time."

Alfred stops, turns around, and faces me. "You think I'm charming?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I blush. "Just keep walking before I yank your cowlick out."

He smirks and continues to drag me out the door, and I let him. There's no use fighting him when he has his mind set on something. That's a lesson I'm about to learn the hard way.


	6. Day 10

Alfred sits by us again at lunch, and again Arthur, Vash, and Lili get up and leave. I have to find a way to get these two groups to coexist peacefully. Alfred watches my friends leave with a frown. I can tell he doesn't like the rejection.

"Don't worry. They'll come around," I tell him.

"I hope so," he says quietly. He starts to scarf down his hamburger. Our school serves three different lunches everyday. One is always hamburgers. Alfred gets that lunch everyday, and on top of that, he gets two.

"A-Alfred, do you mind if I sit here," a soft voice asks. I look up from my lunch to see Matthew sitting down next to Alfred.

"Sure bro!" Alfred says with a big grin. "Hey (y/n)! This is my little bro Matthew. HAHAHA!"

"You're a wide receiver," I say to Matthew. "You're amazing on the field."

"Oh, y-yes, thank you," he answers embarrassed. "I'm surprised you noticed."

I'm about to say something else when another football player sits down. He's probably the shortest guy on the team. "Hello Alfred. May I join you?"

"Of course Kiku!" Alfred turns back to me. "This is Kiku. He's one of our running backs."

"Nice to meet you," I say to Kiku.

"It's very nice to meet you Miss...?"

"(Y/n)," I tell him. He's the first one to actually say something when I introduce myself.

"It's a pleasure Miss (y/n)."

Alfred lets out a laugh. "HAHAHA! No need to be so formal Kiku."

"Oh, I'm sorry Alfred," the short player says timidly. I think Arthur would like Kiku since he's always going on about manners and being a gentleman.

"There you are Kiku," a booming voice says. I look up to see Ludwig and a goofy looking kid sitting down next to Kiku. I recognize the shorter kid with the curl as the one that was being yelled at for not running fast enough.

"(Y/n)," Ludwig greets me with a nod.

"So you're (y/n)?" the goofy looking kid asks. "Veeee~! My name's Feliciano, but you can call me Feli!"

"Nice to meet you," I tell him. This kid has as much energy as Alfred.

"So I guess you've met a lot of the junior players on varsity," Alfred says   
to me with a smile. "When do I get to meet the section leaders?"

His question throws me off guard. I didn't expect him to want to meet the band kids. "I don't know. Later I guess." I shrug. "Well I'm gonna get going. I'll see you at rehearsal tonight." A few of the other players along with Alfred waves as I walked away. I guess they're really not that bad.

The rehearsal tonight is mainly focused on drilling the fieldshow. Folios are only allowed to check when we move in our music. We work only the movements to the show without the music. The tempo is set on the slow side to begin, and we work our way up until we can go at full speed. My saxophone squad has two underclassmen in it, but they manage to keep up pretty well. I'm proud of the effort the underclassmen in my section put in. There are a few airheads that gives me and Arthur a little trouble, but they usually work hard.

Out of the corner of my eye I see one of my saxophone freshmen struggling to keep up with her squad. I call the guy in the D position of my squad over. He's a senior like me, so I trust him to lead my squad while I help the freshman girl. I walk over to the freshman girl's squad and explain what I'm going to do to the squad leader.

"Here, come with me," I tell the girl. We walk off the field while the rest of the band continues to drill. "What are you having issues with?"

"Um...well it's going so fast," she says shyly. "It's hard to keep up."

"Okay," I say with a nod. "How about I count off the beats and you step off like you're going to move to your next spot. We'll increase the speed as we go."

She nods and stands at attention. I start counting beats and measures as she marks time. When I get to the measure she's supposed to move, she takes a hesitant step forward. By now she's already a half measure behind where she should be. I stop counting beats.

"I think I know what your problem is," I say with a smile. "You're not confident enough. You need to be confident about your movement, whether it's right or wrong. If you look good while doing it, it won't matter if you're wrong."

"Really?" she asks wide eyed.

I give her a reassuring smile. "Yup. You just gotta go for it."

"A-alright. I'll do my best."

I start counting again from the beginning of the piece. The freshman girl takes a step at the correct time the first time, the second time, and the third time. I stop counting when I get to the end of the piece. She looks at me in surprise.

"You did it," I tell her.

"Really? I did?" she asks excitedly. "I thought maybe I was doing it wrong."

I shake my head. "You got it spot on. Way to go!" I give her a big hug. "Now let's go faster."

The freshman girl does just fine for the rest of rehearsal. Her confidence has definitely increased, and it shows in her marching. She managed to step off at the right time going full speed. The band improved exponentially at this rehearsal. We can now run through the entire show with minimal hiccups. All that's left is adding the music and drilling that. It's a relief knowing the show won't be rushed this year. Last year the band couldn't pull it together until the last minute, and everyone was a nervous wreck during the show. It didn't end in failure, but it wasn't pretty either.

"Everyone is doing great!" Arthur praises once everyone is back in the band room. "Keep up the good work and section of the year is as good as ours!"

A few section members give excited whoops, and then the section disperses to leave. I talk to a few people briefly before looking around for Alfred. I had seen him up at the stadium, but I had lost track of him.

"Looking for someone?" Alfred asks from behind me.

I turn to face him. I've gotten used to him sneaking up behind me all the time. "Yeah, so what if I was?"

"HAHAHA!" Alfred laughs. "Ready to go?"

I nod. "So this is gonna be a regular thing now huh?"

"Which part are ya talking about?" he asks as the two of you start walking out of the band room.

"The taking me home bit," I clarify.

"Oh, yeah I guess it is." Alfred says with a smile. "I'm the hero, so it's only right that I take the pretty girl home."

I do my best not to blush at his compliment, but it's next to impossible. Even if I do have the littlest itty bitty crush on Alfred, that doesn't mean he has any feelings for me. I should just forget the whole thing. I climb into Alfred's truck, and he starts it up.

"So what was going on with you and that girl?" he asks as he pulls out of the school's parking lot.

"What do you mean?" I ask him confused. "I was just helping her out."

"Was she having problems?" Alfred asks curiously.

"Yeah. She wasn't confident about her timing, but we fixed that right up."

"I didn't even notice she was having trouble," he says.

"It's not a super obvious thing. You'd have to be looking at her specifically to notice it, but we do our best to watch out for each other in the band. We're a family."

"A family?" Alfred asks as he glances at me briefly.

"Yeah," I answer. "The band is one big family. Mr. Rome is like our dad, and the section leaders and drum majors are the big brothers and sisters. The freshmen are the babies," I say with a laugh. "We all take good care of each other."

"A family, huh," Alfred repeats. "That's cool. I like that a lot." He gives me a smile that makes my heart flutter. Stupid heart. 

We arrive at my house not long after that. I make sure I have all my stuff before getting out of the truck. I'm almost to the door when Alfred calls my name.

"Hey (y/n)!"

I turn around and walk back to him. Maybe I forgot something after all. "What?"

"I didn't get to tell you goodnight," he says as he leans out his window.

"Oh, well goo-"

I don't get to finish my sentence because Alfred's lips are pressed against my own. The kiss is short but sweet.

"Goodnight (y/n)," Alfred says while looking me straight in the eyes. A small blush rises to his cheeks. "I'll see you at lunch." He pulls out of your driveway and drives away. 

I stare at the truck as it drives away down the road. Did that really just happen? I touch my lips tentatively. Alfred tastes faintly like apple pie. So much for my itty bitty crush.


	7. Day 9

On Wednesdays the section leaders get together during lunch to discuss issues in their sections, or with the band, that need to be addressed. Today we talk about me and Alfred. I didn't want to talk about this, but some of the other section leaders have noticed something's up, so now I'm stuck explaining things to people.

"So what's he like?" Elizabeta asks.

"Well, he's nicer than I thought he'd be. And he's pretty sensitive too."

"How so?" she asks curious.

"He doesn't like it when Arthur and Vash here ditch us at lunch," I answer. I give those two a good glare.

"He sits with you at lunch?" Roderich asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's not like I invited him to. He just...did."

"Could this be the blossoming of young love?" Francis asks dramatically.

"Shut up!" Arthur and I both yell. He can't stand Francis, and it doesn't help that they're cousins.

"Then why the blush?" he asks with a smug smirk on his face. I cross my arms and look away. Maybe I should just tell them the whole story.

"Because," I mumble, "he kissed me last night."

"Ai-yah!" Yao yells in surprise.

Lili gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.

Arthur looks like he's going to fall out of his chair, and similar expressions adorn everyone else's face, except Francis's.

"Like I said," he says smugly. "It's young love."

"I told you it's no-"

"There you are (y/n)!"

I turn around to find Alfred walking through the band room door toward us. My blush probably gets worse, and Francis's smirk probably only gets bigger.

"A-Alfred, what are you doing here?"

He scratches the back of his head. "Well you weren't at lunch so I thought maybe you'd be here." He seems to notice the presence of the gaping section leaders for the first time. "Are these the section leaders?"

"Uh, um...yeah," I say. His sudden appearance has left my brain kinda foggy. "You already know Arthur. He's my co-section leader. And Vash is the clarinet section leader." The two mentioned don't react at all. "That's Lili. She's Vash's sister, and the color guard section leader." Lili gives a small wave. "Next to her is Roderich, the drum line section leader." Roderich gives Alfred a nod. "Then there's Elizabeta, the trumpet section leader." She grins widely when I say her name. "And lastly there's Yao, who's the low brass section leader, and your annoying cousin, who is flute section leader." The last two give small nods of acknowledgement.

"Cool!" Alfred says with a grin. "Nice to meet ya! I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I'm (y/n)'s date to homecoming!"

The room goes absolutely silent. I turn and look at Alfred. When had this been decided? Francis starts laughing in his chair, but no one else seems to notice. They all stare at you with wide, curious eyes.

"What?" Arthur finally gets out.

"Um, could you just excuse us for a bit?" I ask the section leaders. I push Alfred out the band room doors and into the hallway. "What is going on?" I hiss at him.

"I'm taking you to homecoming!" he proclaims again. "Wait did I forget to tell you that?"

"You mean you forgot to ask!" I say frustrated. "You don't just tell people you're taking them to homecoming! You ask!"

"Oh," Alfred says and looks at the ground.

"Do you just assume everyone wants to go with you? Hasn't anyone ever said anything to you before, or are they too busy gloating that the great Alfred is taking them to homecoming?" It comes out a bit nastier than I thought it would.

Alfred looks up at me with hurt in his eyes. "It's not like that!" he insists. "It's just...I've never taken a girl to homecoming before. Ever."

This throws me off. "Wait, what?"

He looks back down at the ground. "I've never met anyone I wanted to go to homecoming with, so I've never had to ask before. I didn't know that's what I was supposed to do."

I'm not sure whether to facepalm at his ignorance or feel horribly horribly guilty for what I said. The guilt wins out. "I'm sorry Alfred. I didn't mean what I said," I tell him quietly.

"Uh huh," he says unconvinced.

Crap, I gotta fix this or I'll be known throughout the school as the girl who broke Alfred. I decide to do something edgy, at least for me. I walk closer to him and give him a hug. He's taller than me, so my head comes to rest near his shoulder. He tenses at my contact. I can tell he wasn't expecting this.

"No one has ever asked me to homecoming before," I tell him quietly. It's true, and also my whole love life in a nutshell. Never asked to anything.

Slowly, he relaxes and wraps his strong arms around me too. He holds me tightly, and I can tell I'm blushing bring red. "(Y/n), will you go to homecoming with me?" he whispers into my hair.

I hold onto him tighter out of embarrassment. "Yes," I respond. I'm conflicted about this whole Alfred thing, but I'm willing to risk a little because he is, and I know he won't stop once he has his mind set on something.

News spreads like wildfire in the band. That's another interesting dynamic of the band. We may be family, but that means gossip spreads faster too. People are giving me all sorts of looks at the evening rehearsal. Some guys approach me and give me high fives for "scoring it big" while some girls glare at me from a distance. The one who's taking it the worst is Arthur.

"C'mon Arthur! Don't be like this."

"Be like what?" he asks in a grumpy voice. "I'm not doing anything."

"Yes you are!" I say. "Ever since that whole thing with Alfred you've been avoiding me."

"No I haven't."

"Yes you have!" I yell. I'm reaching the end of my rope here. "If you don't like Alfred that's fine, but it doesn't mean you can treat me any differently."

"I just don't understand!" he says finally. "What do you see in that obnoxious git?"

"Maybe if you stuck around at lunch you'd find out," I shoot back.

He stops talking and looks at me for a long time. "Fine, but just once."

"Fine," I agree. We don't get to talk more because we're moving on to the next drill.

I'm exhausted and ready to leave when rehearsal is over. Mr. Rome had us marching around the football field the entire time. I slide my instrument case into my locker and look for Alfred. I don't get to look for long because a pair of hands slide over my eyes.

"Hey!" My hands fly up to my face to try to pry whoever's hands it is off. Then I hear a familiar laugh.

"HAHAHA! Guess who?"

I finally manage to get his hands off of my eyes. "Alfred! Knock it off!" I'm not really that upset, but I'm not used to being so touchy feely. I'm about to say more when I notice almost everyone who's still in the band room is staring at us. I quickly grab Alfred's hand and hurry out of the room, and out of the building.

"Woah, (y/n). Hold up!" Alfred says when we get outside.

I slow my pace down to a walk. "Sorry, I just had to get out of there," I tell him. "All those people were watching us."

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No! It's not like that," I say quickly. "I'm just not used to the attention."

"Don't worry," Alfred tells me. "You learn to get used to it."

I had forgotten that Alfred practically lives in the spotlight. I guess it happens when you're the school's star quarterback. I tug in his hand with my own, which I haven't let go of it yet. "Let's go home."

"Okay," Alfred says with a soft smile. He walks past me in what I assume is the direction of his truck, and as he does he places a kiss on the side of my forehead. I touch the spot his lips just were as we walk through the dark parking lot hand in hand. This is definitely going to take some getting used to.


	8. Day 8

At first it was all rumors and speculation going around that Alfred and I are an item. The band kids are the only ones who know it's true, so it takes a while for the real truth to get around but get around it does. I've been getting odd looks from people all day. Some are more angry than anything. Those come from the preppy girls that usually hang around the football players. I do my best to ignore it and act like everything is normal.

Arthur stays with us at lunch today like he said he would. I made sure Alfred brings Kiku with him when he sits down. It's better to be safe than sorry, and I knew Kiku would make a good impression on Arthur. There's plenty of tension in the air, that's coming mostly from Arthur, and you can tell Kiku is uncomfortable.

"So what are you guys doing tonight?" Alfred asks to try to break the ice.

"Don't know," Arthur answers. "Mr. Rome usually doesn't tell us until we get there, but it's probably more of the same."

"Oh okay." I can tell Alfred's doing his best to keep things cheery, but it's not easy with the dark cloud hanging over Arthur.

"What's the team been up to lately guys?" I ask.

"We're getting ready to play the Trojans tomorrow, Miss (y/n)," Kiku replies. "It should be an easy game." I notice Arthur perk up a little at Kiku's formality. I knew the good manners would come in handy.

"HAHAHA! Yeah dude! We're gonna crush them!" Alfred exclaims.

"How are you doing this season?" Arthur asks. I mentally fist pump. It's a good sign that Arthur's getting involved in the conversation.

"We're doing very well," Kiku answers. "So far our record is 4-1."

"You don't say?" Arthur says with a raised eyebrow. I know he's not big on football, but I'm pretty sure he knows what Kiku's talking about.

I turn to Alfred. "It's looking pretty good so far," I say quietly enough that only he can hear.

He nods enthusiastically in response. "It's going pretty awesome!"

"Kesesese! Using my catchphrase Alfred?" Gilbert walks past the table with Francis and some other guy you've seen a couple times. I can feel Arthur tense up next to me. If anyone can put him in a bad mood, it's Francis. Luckily, they keep walking to a different table.

Lunch ends without any other disruptions. Kiku and Arthur talk almost the entire time. The whole point was to show Arthur that Alfred's alright, but making friends with a friend of Alfred's is fine too.

"Kiku is a decent guy," Arthur tells me as we walk to band. "A true gentleman."

I smile as we turn the corner. Maybe our two worlds can work in harmony after all.

"Don't forget we don't have rehearsal tomorrow," Mr. Rome reminds the band at the end of our evening rehearsal. "We're going to be playing at the football game." I see Alfred perk up from the stadium bleachers. "That's no excuse not to practice though, especially since this is the last weekend before homecoming."

An excited murmuring ripples across the band. After tomorrow we're in the homestretch until our big fieldshow. The drum majors give us some praise for once, but then go into their usual constructive criticism. Everyone is itching to get of the field, and take off for the band room as soon as we're dismissed.

I'm walking back with Arthur when I'm practically tackled from behind. "You guys are really gonna play at our game tomorrow," Alfred asks me excitedly.He's got me wrapped up tightly in his arms to keep me from falling over.

"Yeah, we are," Arthur answers for me. "Why are you so excited about it?"

"I've never taken the time to listen to you guys play!" Alfred explains. "Im exited to hear what you guys do!" He still hasn't let me go, not that I'm complaining exactly.

"Oh," Arthur says in surprise. He probably wasn't expecting that answer. "Well, then you're in for a treat."

The three of us walk back to the band room so Arthur and I can put our saxes away. The two guys seem to get along alright for the short time they're together. Arthur says goodbye to us after we put our stuff away.

"What happened between you two?" I ask Alfred as we walk out to his truck. "I know why he doesn't like Francis, but I have no idea why he's so mad at you."

"Yeah, I remember what happened between those two," Alfred says and laughs. "I don't remember it well, but it was something about a bad haircut Francis gave him."

I laugh too. It seems like a silly thing to hold a grudge about, but I know that's not the only thing. Francis's personality is just too different from Arthur's. "You have some odd cousins," I tell Alfred as we get into his truck. "So what happened with you and Arthur?"

Alfred puts his keys in the ignition, but he doesn't start the truck. "It happened not that long ago. We used to be really close, ever since we were little kids and everything." He pauses and his smile fades. "I used to be involved in football and band in middle school."

"What? Really?" I had no idea he was in band. I went to a different middle school on the other side of town than Alfred and Arthur.

"Yeah," Alfred says with a small nod. "I liked it, but I was having trouble keeping up on my practicing and football at the same time." He pauses again. "So in the end I picked football, and it crushed Arthur," he says in a soft voice. "I think he still looks at me like a traitor."

I don't know what to say to what he just told me. Alfred takes the chance to start the car and pull out of his spot. He doesn't have to say it, but i can tell the experience upset him a lot. I think about what he told me as we exit the parking lot.

"I don't think you're a traitor," I say to him.

He turns to look at me briefly before looking back at the road. The smile has returned to his usually cheery face. "Thanks (y/n). I'm glad to hear it." He reaches out with one hand and holds mine. Usually I'm not a very touchy person, but I think he needs the comfort so I let him.

We reach my house after a quiet drive. We didn't say anything, but we never stopped holding hands. It's actually not that bad. It's kind of soothing in a way to always be in contact with someone.

"Alfred," I say as he parks in my driveway, "you're a good guy, okay? Don't let anyone tell you differently." I do something a little spontaneous and give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

I'm about to get out when Alfred's hand tightens around mine. "Thank you (y/n). That really means a lot."

I smile back at him. "You're welcome Alfred." He lets me get out of the car. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight hun," Alfred tells me with a big smile. His faint blush probably mirrors my own. I wave to him as he pulls out of my driveway and drives away. I can't wait for the game tomorrow.


	9. Day 7

The stadium stands are packed full of people for the game Friday night. The band has a corner of the home bleachers reserved to sit in during the game. We stand on the bleacher seats as we play our pep band music. We don't have to wear our uniforms tonight since its just a regular game, but we will next week on homecoming. Both teams are out on the field warming up, and I can see Alfred among the other players in our school's blue and white uniform. 

The team we're playing tonight is the River City Trojans. Their players run around the field in green and white. This school is known for being lousy at athletics in our conference, but never underestimate some of their clubs. Their debate team is a tougher rival than our actual rivals, the Hartland Bulldogs.

"Ladies and gentleman!" The announcer in the press box begins. "Welcome to the West High Eagles varsity game! Tonight is a conference game, and they face off against the River City Trojans! Now if everyone could remove their hats for the playing of the national anthem."

Mr. Rome takes that as his cue to raise his hands. The band, along with the rest of the crowd, quiets down to prepare for the song. Mr. Rome silently counts off and gives us our first downbeat. The band's rendition of The Star Spangled Banner rings through the stands loudly enough that the visiting fans in the opposite bleachers can hear. People begin to clap and sit down once we hit our last note.

The announcer begins to speak again, but at this point I'm not listening. I'm watching Alfred on the field. I'm a little nervous about the game, but I have confidence I our team, which is something I never really had before I met Alfred. I mean, I knew our team was good and all, but I never really used to care if we won or not. Things are different now.

The two teams line up for the kick off. Lovino Vargas, Feliciano's older brother, is the kicker for our team, and he steps up to kick the ball. Roderich signals one of the snare and cymbal players to get ready. As Lovino runs toward the ball the snare player does a drum roll, and when he kicks the ball the cymbal player crashes the cymbals together. It makes for a pretty cool effect. It's something special the band does for our team when we're asked to play. 

Our defensive line stops the other team's offense from going anywhere near the end zone. We have this game in the bag. I recognize one of our really tall defensive players as that creepy guy Ivan. As the right defensive end his job is to try to get at the quarterback, and he's pretty good at it. It's just that he seems to enjoy tackling people a little too much.

The game progresses smoothly, and our team scores twice. Both times the band stands up to play a short little fight song. Alfred is looking great on the field, and he's playing just as great too. He and Matthew have some good passes, and even short little Kiku gets some good rushing yards. At the end of the first half I see Alfred give Ludwig a high five. Ludwig really did well keeping the defense off of Alfred. The teams hustle off the field to the sideline benches when the referee calls halftime. 

The announcer begins talking shortly before turning the time over to the band. Mr. Rome reappears to conduct while the drum majors tell us which song to flip to in our pep band folios. I assume Mr. Rome was by the coach while he was gone, and giving the coach a hard time. Mr. Rome can be immature like that sometimes. We begin to play through some of our standard repertoire to fill up the halftime break, and the dance team is on the field doing routines to our songs. A good chunk of people get up to leave while we play to buy food or use the bathroom. Another portion of the crowd isn't paying attention to us but to the dance team instead. Well I'm sorry we don't wear revealing outfits when we play. 

There is one person paying very close attention to us though, and that's Alfred. He's the only player that's turned around looking at us. He waves at me after we play a few songs, and I wave back.

"That git was serious about watching us," Arthur says to me while I wave.

"Of course he was," is all I say back.

Alfred continues to watch us as we play some more music. A few of the other players turn around to see what he's looking at, and they seem to notice us for the first time. How typical. Next thing we know, most of the team is watching us and cheering, with Alfred leading the whole thing. The support of the team gets us some more recognition from the crowd as they realize the players are watching us too. At the last song we play, the crowd cheers so loudly that you'd think we'd just won the game and not the team. We've never had this kind of support before.

"That was West High's football pep band!" the announcer roars over the crowd. "Come watch them perform on the field at halftime next week for the homecoming game against the Bulldogs!"

The crowd is pumped when the ref blows his whistle to begin the second half. Mr. Rome disappears once again, probably to harass Coach Germania some more. Those two have a weird friendship. I watch Mr. Rome for a while to see what he's up to, but instead of bugging the coach he gives him a big hug. We'll probably find out what that's all about later. I look back onto the field to try to focus on the game.

The Trojans manage to sneak in a touchdown in the middle of the third quarter. Ivan looks like he's going to kill someone as he hulks off the field. Alfred quickly makes up for the loss when the offense takes the field. We're still up by a touchdown, but it's better to be safe than sorry. The team runs a lot of rushing plays, so Kiku and Feli get to handle the ball a lot. During one play, Gilbert breaks away without being noticed and catches a pass in the end zone for a touchdown. His cries of "I. Am. Awesome!" could probably be heard from down the block.

The final score of the game is 21-10. The other team barely made a field goal to get an extra 3 points before the clock ran out. In the end it doesn't matter because we still kicked their butts. The home stands go wild when the final whistle is blown. Everyone gets up to leave, and the band start to prepare to play more, when we're interrupted.

"Uh, excuse me everyone!" Alfred's voice booms over the sound system. "I have kind of an announcement to make."

Everyone turns to the field to see the entire varsity football team standing in a line facing the stands with Alfred in front of them holding a mic.

"I didn't really get a chance to do this the right way the other day, so I wanted to try again," Alfred explains. A confused buzz goes through the crowd. Alfred turns to face the team. "Alright guys!"

At Alfred's cue the football team, starting from the left, begins to take their shirts and pads off. Each player has two or three letters painted on their chest. Once the whole team has their stuff off, the message can clearly be read as "(Y/N) WILL YOU GO TO HOMECOMING WITH ME?" The entire band turns to look at me. 

Alfred pulls out a small bouquet of flowers from under a bench on the sidelines and motions for me to join him on the field. I'm frozen for a moment until Arthur prods me with his finger to get moving. I unclip my sax from its neck strap and set it down on the bleachers. I slip off the strap and place that next to my instrument. Then I carefully make my way down the stand and onto the field by Alfred. The eyes of everyone in the stadium on me the entire time.

"What do you say, hun?" Alfred asks me softly as he hands me the flowers. The mic still picks up his voice. 

I don't think I can trust my voice to come out sounding normal under the circumstances, so instead I give Alfred a hug. Partially to give him an answer and partially to hide my blushing red face from the crowd. Said crowd erupts in applause and cheering when they see I said yes, and even the other school's crowd is cheering. The varsity team crowds around the two of us to congratulate us. It seems like we're getting married or something from everyone's enthusiasm.

"Yay! I'm so excited!" Feli shouts and hugs me. I barely know the kid and I'm already like his best friend. "We're going to have so much fun, veeee~!"

"Way to go guys!" Gilbert yells over the cheering. "That was pretty awesome!"

Alfred has one arm wrapped around me still, and I cling to him so I don't get whisked away by the crowd of people pressing in on us. By now some of the people from the bleachers have joined the team on the field. I'm not used to all the attention, and I think Alfred can tell. He hands the mic off to someone and begins pushing through the crowd. We make it to the edge and sneak away before we're followed. He leads us to the band room where the band should be arriving shortly.

"That was great (y/n)!" Alfred says excitedly. "I hope I did it alright," he adds in a quieter voice. "I'm new to this asking a girl to homecoming thing."

I give a small laugh. "Only you could've come up with a way to do it, and let the whole school know, at the same time."

He laughs at that. "HAHAHA! I guess you're right." He looks around to make sure no one is looking. "I have to get back and get out of my gear, but I'll be back soon to take you home, okay?" I nod. "Good," he says with a smile. He leans down and gives me a quick kiss. I wasn't expecting it, but I'm more mentally prepared than the last one. Alfred waves as he walks away. I lick my lips as I watch him go, the faint taste of his lips still on mine.


	10. Day 6

My dad is sitting at the kitchen table when I walk downstairs Saturday morning. I've always been an early riser like him, so we're the only two up so far. My mom and my little sister Kate won't be up for a maybe another hour or so. I grab a bowl from the cabinet and pour myself some cereal. I fish a spoon out of a drawer and sit at the table to eat.

"How was the game last night?" dad asks without looking up from his newspaper. Of course he wanted to talk about football.

"It was fine. We ended up winning, which was no surprise," I tell him through bites of cereal.

"Anything interesting happen?"

I pause my spoon midcourse to my mouth. My mind immediately thinks of Alfred asking me to homecoming. I'm not sure if I want to tell him just yet. "Well, not quite,"

"Oh really?" he says as he looks up from his paper for the first time. "Not even this?" He shows me the sports page from our local newspaper. There's a large photo of me hugging Alfred with the headline 'Taking Home More Than a Win'.

I stare at the paper silently for a full minute. "I was going to tell you eventually," I finally say. I sigh in frustration. Now not only the majority of the student body knows about me and Alfred, but most of the county does too. Great.

"So, you're going to homecoming with the quarterback, huh?" dad says. He continues reading his paper where he left off.

"I guess so," I mumble. Well that was a fine way to start my morning.

"Is he a good kid? I know he's an amazing player."

I sigh again. I should've seen this coming too. "Yeah dad, he's a good kid. He's got a heart of gold."

My dad just nods. "You gonna keep seeing him after homecoming?"

My face starts to heat up. I didn't think dad would want to talk about our relationship too. "I don't know. Maybe."

Luckily, Kate chooses that moment to come into the kitchen, so dad can't grill me on Alfred anymore. She runs to me and gives me a hug before jumping on dad's lap. She's such a sweetheart.

"Good morning!" she says. She's kind of like Alfred in that they're both peppy almost all the time.

"Good morning," my dad and I say at the same time. "What do you want for breakfast?" I ask.

"Poptarts!" she says. "And some yogurt!" She's in this weird phase where she likes to mix odd foods together. This is probably one of the more normal combinations.

I'm about to get up to get it when my mom walks in. "Don't worry about it (y/n). I'll get it. Just finish eating." I sit down and continue spooning cereal into my mouth until it's gone.

"Who's that?" my 8 year old sister asks. I turn around to see who she's referring to, and I see the same stupid picture in the paper again.

"Dad!" I whine. "You didn't have to show her that!"

My dad laughs. "I thought she'd enjoy hearing about your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" my mom asks curiously as she sets my sister's breakfast on the table.

"Don't start making stuff up dad!" I say in exasperation. "We're not officially dating. He's just taking me to homecoming."

"Oh that's wonderful!" mom says. "Has he kissed you yet?"

I don't say anything, but I know my whole face starts turning a really bright shade of red. "None of your business!" I finally mumble.

"He has hasn't he," mom says knowingly. "Well honey, I think that makes him your boyfriend."

"That's yucky," Kate says as she dips a poptart into her yogurt. The three of us look at her, and my parents start laughing.

"You guys are impossible," I mumble, and storm out of the room to take a shower.

The one thing I'm grateful for out of that whole experience is that my dad seemed to approve of Alfred. I haven't had a whole lot of other dealings with guys, so I was afraid he'd get all overprotective-dad on me. It probably helps that Alfred's a football player, and a good one at that. Dad used to coach football at West until he blew out his knee. Even though I'm pretty sure dad would love to have a son to play ball with, he does pretty well with us two girls. Having one of them date a football player is probably the next best thing.

After my shower, I get changed and go outside to see if the other newspaper we get has been delivered yet. That's not exactly what I find when I go outside. Ribbons of toilet paper hang from the tree in the front yard, and the tree on the side of the house. Broken glass bottles litter the driveway, and it looks like tomatoes were thrown at our garage door. I look around in horror. Who would do this? It's a good thing it's Saturday, otherwise dad would have backed about of the garage and shred his tires open on the glass. I notice something written in chalk on the walkway leading from the driveway to the front door.

"This is what you get for thinking you're better than us. You don't deserve Alfred," is all it says

I stare at the hastily scrawled words with a mix of emotions. Anger, surprise, shame, guilt. Who do these people think they are? I go inside the house to grab a broom, and begin to sweep up the broken glass on the driveway. I do a thorough check when I'm done to make sure I got everything because the last thing we need is someone getting hurt from a stray piece of glass.

While I'm scouring the driveway, a truck pulls up on the street next to my house. "Hey (y/n)!" Alfred greets as he gets out of the car. "Whatcha up to?"

"Hi Alfred," I say unenthusiastically. It's not that I don't want to see him, but this whole mess has bummed me out. "I'm...cleaning."

Alfred looks at the house and notices the mess for the first time. "Who did this?" he asks in a serious voice.

"I don't know," I reply quietly.

Alfred walks up the driveway, and stops at the words on the walkway. Crap, I should've cleaned that first. He turns around after reading the words. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." He looks like he's about to cry.

I get up from the driveway, satisfied it's glass free, and face him. "It's not your fault Alfred. You didn't know this would happen."

"But I didn't have to ask you in front of the whole school," he says as he becomes increasingly distressed. "I came by to show you this." He hands me the same newspaper article my dad had shown me earlier. "I thought it was cool, but I guess not."

I fold the article up and slip it in my pocket. "Don't worry about it Alfred. They would've found out eventually."

This seems to ease his guilt a little. "Want help cleaning up?"

We wash the tomatoes off the garage, and get the chalk off the walkway, without much trouble. I have to get a ladder to pull the toilet paper out of the trees. We're working on the last of it when an SUV blasting pop music pulls up next to the house. The passenger window rolls down to reveal some of the preppy girls from school.

"Hey loser!" one of them calls. "Having fun cleaning up our message?"

"Yeah!" another one shouts. "Stay away from Alfred, or you'll have to deal with a lot worse."

At the sound of his name, Alfred turns around from the ladder he's holding for me. The girl's eyes widen when they realize the living breathing Alfred is standing in my yard. They hadn't expected that.

"Drive!" a girl yells, and the car goes roaring away.

"That was weird," I tell Alfred as I come down the ladder. All of the toilet paper's been taken out of the tree now.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I always thought those girl are kinda weird. Too clingy." I laugh at his comment. If only those girls knew what he thought of them. I throw the paper away in the garbage, and the two of us inspect the front of the house for anything we might have missed.

"What's with all the yelling out here?" my dad asks as he opens the front door. "Who's this kid?" he asks when he sees Alfred.

"Uh, dad this is Alfred. Alfred, this is dad," I say.

"Nice to meet you sir," Alfred says with a grin. If he's afraid of my dad, he's doing a good job hiding it.

"So you're the quarterback," dad says, and shakes Alfred's hand. "A pretty good one from what I hear."

"HAHAHA! That's me."

"And you're taking my little girl to homecoming."

"Yes sir!" Alfred answers excitedly.

"Well let me tell you something," my dad mumbles. He pulls Alfred closer and starts whispering in he ear. First Alfred's smile fades, then he turns pale.

"Dad! What are you telling him!" I yell from where I'm standing.

"Just everything he needs to know before dating my daughter," he says back. "It was nice meeting you Alfred."

"S-same here, s-sir," the usually confident Alfred stutters. My dad chuckles as he gives Alfred a pat on the shoulder. Then he turns around and walks back inside, but not before pulling the newspaper I was originally looking for out of the bushes.

"What did he tell you?" I ask Alfred suspiciously.

"To treat you good, otherwise he's going to break my wrist so I can never play football again." Of course it's football related. "And a lot of other painful things."

"Don't worry. I don't think that'll ever happen," I tell him. "You're too nice."

"Really?" he asks, his smile reappearing.

"Yup," I say simply.

Alfred wraps me up in a big hug. "Thanks (y/n)." He places a soft kiss on the top of my head. "I gotta go now," he says into my hair. "Some of us guys are having a training session, but I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

"What's tomorrow?"

"We're having an extra practice," he tells me. "And you're gonna come watch."

"Okay." I'm pretty sure I don't have much choice in the matter. I did agree to watch his practices if he watched mine.

"Sweet!" he says with his usual goofy grin. "I'll see ya tomorrow!" Alfred lets go of me and walks toward his truck.

I wave to him as he drives away. Once he's out of sight, I walk back to the house. I didn't notice the small pair of eyes watching us through the window and giggling. Kate would tell me and my parents all about the cute boy giving me a hug later.


	11. Day 5

I did go to Alfred's morning football practice like I said I would. They're looking pretty good out there on the field, so I'm thinking we have a pretty good chance of beating the Bulldogs this Friday. Coach Germania looked pretty pleased as well from what I could tell, and that's saying something because that man scowls as much as Mr. Rome smiles, which is a lot. Alfred had informed me that some of the guys wanted to go do something after practice, and I was invited to come.

And that is how I ended up at a burger joint with a large group of ravenous football players. I've never seen so much food eaten at one in my life. Alfred has a large pile of burgers he's working on next to Matthew, who has another pile next to him. I'm afraid to go near them when they're inhaling food like that, so I opt for sitting by Gilbert. He had invited Francis and that other guy to come along too.

"Hey, can I sit with you guys?" I ask as I carry my tray of normal sized proportions over to their table. "I'm afraid if I sit over there I'll get eaten."

"Why of course (y/n)!" Francis says. He pats the open seat in the booth next to him, and I sit down.

"Hey, (y/n). This is Antonio," Gilbert tells me. He points to the guy I've seen him with before. "Me, Francis, and him have been friends for a really long time."

"Call me Toni," Antonio says with a smile.

I look at the three of them as I take a sip of my soda. How did these three ever become friends? They're so different. I decide to ask. "How did you all meet? I mean, I know for a fact that Francis and Gilbert are involved in two different things."

"Allow me to explain," Toni says. "The three of us first met through wrestling freshman year."

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. "That's it?" The trio nod. "The way you said it I thought there'd be more to the story than that."

"Nope. That's all there is!" Francis explains with a dramatic hand gesture. I inwardly flinch at his flamboyance. Maybe sitting next to Francis wasn't the best idea.

"Wrestling, huh," I murmur to myself. Of course they would all do a sport that involves tight clothing and groping. Well, at least Gilbert and Francis are like that. I don't know Toni well enough to make a judgement like that.

My thoughts are interrupted by Francis scooting closer to me. He wraps an arm around my waist and leans in close. "Want to get out out of here darling and find a nice place to be alone?" Oh boy, here we go.

"Francis, just because I'm the only girl here doesn't mean you have to flirt with me," I say calmly while nibbling on a fry.

"Come on darling," he insists. "It'll be fun."

"About as fun as pulling teeth."

Before Francis can say anything else, Alfred's head pops over the bench of our booth. Turns out we're sitting in a booth next to his. "Hey dude. Wanna get your hands off my girl and leave her alone." The tone he says it in leaves no room to argue, and Francis slides back to his side of the bench. Alfred motions for me to join him, so I pick up my food and leave after a quick goodbye to the trio.

"Thanks," I tell him when I sit down next to him.

"No sweat!" he exclaims in his usual voice. "Can't have other guys hanging on my girl." I blush a little at his protectiveness.

"I'm used to Francis doing that since he flirts with any and every girl in the band, but it was nice not having to punch him this time."

Alfred laughs and continues eating where he left off. His pile of burgers is a lot smaller now. I finally have a chance to eat without getting harassed, so I unwrap my burger and begin eating. We eat in silence for a while, but then we hear this odd muffled sound.

"Do you hear that?" I ask Alfred.

"Hear what?"

"Shhhhh! Just listen for it." We stop to listen, and sure enough, I hear it again. "What is that?"

Alfred turns to look on his other side where the sound is coming from. "Oh Matthew! I totally forgot you were here man!"

"I'll move to the other side!" I say quickly and do so. Matthew had been squished up against the wall when Alfred had scooted over to make room for me. "Sorry Matthew."

"I-it's alright," he says in his quiet voice. "I'm just glad you remembered."

I give him an apologetic smile before continuing to eat. Meanwhile, Gilbert and his gang leave with some other guys, so the three of us are alone in the restaurant. I finish my food before Alfred and Matthew do, and watch in fascination as they pack away burger after burger. I used to think it was kind of weird that they can eat so much, but it's actually pretty cool.

"Ready to go?" Alfred asks when the two of them finally finish. I nod. "HAHAHA! Alright, off we go!"

We walk out to his truck, and he unlocks the doors. I climb into the passenger seat out of habit. On second thought, I should've asked Matthew if he wanted to sit up here, but it's too late for that. Alfred backs the truck out of its spot once we're all buckled in. He reaches over and holds my hand again. Looks like this is going to be our regular thing now.

After a while my house comes into view, and Alfred pulls into my driveway. "I'm glad you could make it (y/n)," he says, and he flashes his signature smile.

"Y-you're welcome," I say as my heart skips a beat. That smile always gets to me. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"You bet!" He uses his free hand to pull my face in for a quick kiss. My blush has just doubled in color. "I'll text ya later."

I exit his truck and wave to him as he drives away. I'm about to walk in the house when a thought hits me. My face burns when I realize Matthew was in the backseat the whole time, and probably saw everything. At least I can count on him not to tell anyone.


	12. Day 4

Mr. Rome was practically hopping with excitement in class Monday. We all waited patiently for him to explain what's got him all worked up.

"Did you feel that energy on Friday?" he asks us. "Did you see how excited everyone was because of us? That's our job as a pep band. We want to create that kind of energy every time we play, especially this Friday. I don't know what got into everyone last week, but it was sure something." He acts like an excited child on Christmas.

I smile when I hear what he's got to say. Alfred really made a difference for us at the last game. The band begins to murmur excitedly, and several people look at me. They must think I'm the reason Alfred was watching us. I try not to blush thinking about it. They're probably right.

"I can't believe that git pulled through for us," Arthur says to no one in particular.

"Have a little more faith in your cousin," I tell him. "He's not a bad guy."

"I guess," he grumbles in response.

"Just because he dropped band, doesn't mean he's a bad person."

"How do you know about that?" Arthur asks as he snaps his head up to look at me.

"I asked," I say simply.

"That doesn't mean you understand."

"Well help me Arthur. Help me understand what it is about him you despise so much." I'm starting to lose my patience with him. He can be so stubborn sometimes, and it drives me nuts.

"Maybe later," he says with a sigh. He turns away and listens to instructions from the drum major that is currently speaking. I also turn away to listen. I'm determined to find out the truth no matter what, so he better be ready.

Rehearsal, later in the evening, is brutal. Mr. Rome must be trying to make up for the fact that we didn't have one Friday. He makes us run the show top to bottom three times in a row, then he starts going through it with a fine tooth comb. We run certain parts over and over again because he thinks we're moving too slow, or he thinks we're going too fast.

Even the drum majors are becoming frustrated with the amount of stopping and starting we're doing, but everyone knows it's important to make all of this perfect. Especially this year. After that performance at the football game, people will be paying close attention to us in the field show, or at least we're hoping they will. And so we have 4 days to make our routine perfect.

Everyone is hot, tired, and sore when we're finally dismissed. Sometimes I complain about carrying a saxophone, but the drum like has it worse. Roderich and his section look like they're about to fall over from exhaustion. The only ones that seem like they'll make it to the band room without a problem are the cymbal players, and that's because they have hardly anything to carry.

"So what's the deal Arthur?" I ask when I finally catch up to him. He's been trying to avoid me ever since we talked during band class.

He sighs and gives me a sideways glance. "I'm mad at Alfred because he quit band. That much is true," Arthur finally says. "But it's more than that." He pauses. "We used to be really good friends when we were little. We played together a lot, and I enjoyed it quite a bit." A small smile appears on Arthur's face. "But then we started growing up, and everything changed. We didn't like the same things anymore, so band was the last thing we really had in common." He clenches his fist. "Then he went and quit that too, the stupid git."

"Arthur-"

"Just don't (y/n)," he says cutting me off. "If you like him, fine, by all means please do. But you can't expect me to like him too. He was one of my only friends, and he left me alone after all those years." Arthur turns and walks away leaving me stunned.

"Didn't go the way you planned, huh?"

I turn to find Alfred walking toward me. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," he states quietly. I assume that means everything. "I didn't know I meant that much to him at the time."

"You can't feel guilty about that," I say reassuringly. "You were just pursuing your dreams."

"Yeah, I guess so." I can tell he's not convinced.

"Where would the football team be without you today?"

"Hmmm," Alfred hums as he thinks about what I said. "I guess you have a point."

"Don't feel bad about the choices you made," I tell him. "You pursed things you love, and he did the same. I'm sure Arthur will come around eventually. You just have to keep trying."

"Okay," he answers. A smile is starting to form on his face. "You should get moving hun. We're the last ones out here."

I take his advise and go inside to put my stuff away. The room is bustling as people hustle to put their instruments away too. Leaving rehearsal is the only thing that will get people hustling after an intense rehearsal like tonight's. I go back outside to find Alfred when I finally get my stuff out away. He's surrounded by some giggly girls, but he quickly disengages himself from their circle when he sees me.

"Always the charmer," I say teasingly.

"Sorry," he says with a chuckle. "I have to do what I can for the ones who don't get me to themselves like you." If that didn't make me blush, then the wink he gave me afterwards did.

"L-let's go," I stutter out embarrassed.

"HAHAHA!" Alfred laughs. He grabs my hand and leads me to his truck. I'm glad he's in a better mood than before.

After we get settled inside, he starts the truck and pulls out of his spot. We sit in silence for a little while until I remember what we had talked about in band class earlier in the day.

"The band is really grateful for what you did at the game Friday," I tell Alfred. "We've never been noticed like that before."

"No problem!" he replies with a big grin. "It was lots of fun! You guys sound great!"

I laugh at his enthusiasm. "Well, we do practice a lot, so I'm glad it pays off."

"That's something I really like about you," Alfred says in a soft voice.

I turn to look at him confused. "What?"

He gives me a quick glance. "I like that you work hard, and you're committed to the band."

I try hard not to blush at his compliment. "Thanks," I say. "But that's what everyone at school is like."

"Yeah, I guess so," Alfred agrees. "But I like your intensity the best!" He grins widely, and my heart pounds faster in my chest. I'm not sure what he means exactly, but I do know he's being sincere.

He reaches out to take my hand, and gives it a squeeze. I find that I'm actually starting to like holding his hand. It's big and warm, and makes me feel safe. We drive in silence and just enjoy each others presence. I wouldn't mind driving with Alfred forever, if I ever get the chance.


	13. Day 3

Alfred had started walking with me to some of my classes during school, but today he didn't show up after band like he usually does. I try not to over think what it could mean. It's possible that he has to stay late to make up something, or maybe he got into some trouble. No, the second idea is unlikely.

"Where is he?" I quietly mumble to myself.

"Are you referring to Alfred?" Vash asks me.

"Yeah. It's not like him not to show up."

"Hmm," is the only response I get from him. Vash is not a man of many words, but don't get him mad or he will be.

Lili walks just behind us as we leave the music hallway. The three of us always walk to our next class together since they're near each other. I don't really know Lili that well, but she and Vash are almost always together, so she tends to tag along with us a lot. She gives out a little squeak that makes me, and her older brother, turn around.

Some of the preppy girls had pushed her out of the way and into some lockers. Vash looks ready to kill them. They aren't the same ones that TPed my house, but they're part of the same group of people. One of them, I take it she's the leader, approaches me.

"So you're the famous (y/n)," she says with a sneer. "I thought you'd be prettier." Her three friends laugh along with her. "We want to talk to you." She gives you a fake smile. "Alone."

"(Y/n), you don't have to-"

"It's fine Vash," I tell my best friend. "Just take care of Lili and get to class okay? I'll be fine." Vash nods uneasily. He grabs Lili's hand, and the two of them start walking down the hall again.

"Perfect," the leader says. "Let's go to the unused staircase." The other girls surround me so I can't run off. They jostle me roughly all the way to the stairs.

The unused staircase is in a remote area of the school. It's really out of the way, so most people never use it. Some people don't even know that it exists. The only people that do use it are people trying to sneak a smoke, or, apparently, crazy preps. The bell rings to signal the start of the next class period. Great, I'd be marked tardy for this, but from the looks on the girl's faces I'd say that's the least of my worries.

"So," the leader says when we're all in the staircase. "What makes you think that you can just take Alfred away from the rest of us?"

"I don't know why you think I'm trying to take him away," I respond and narrow my eyes. "That's not what I was ever trying to do, but it is possible Alfred just wanted some intelligent company for a change."

The leader lashes her hand out and slaps me in the face. "Don't act like you're better than us!" she shrieks. "Just answer the question!"

"I told you. I never planned on 'taking' Alfred. He's the one who followed me." I move my jaw a bit to make sure it's working fine. That slap had some power in it.

"As if!" the leader snorts. "Stop lying to us and tell us what you're doing to get Alfred to cling to you 24/7."

"He likes my intensity best," I tell them with a smirk. "That's a direct quote by the way."

The leader slaps me again, and this time there's enough force to send me stumbling into a wall. "We've had enough of your crap! Grab her!" she instructs two of the other girls.

They grab my arms and slam my back against the wall. As they do so, the back of my head hits the wall, hard. Stars and lights float across my vision for a while, and I can't see what the leader is doing. When my vision finally clears, I'm confused and see the leader holding a curling iron she's plugged into an outlet.

"What are you gonna do? Curl my hair until I talk?" I taunt. I wince right afterward at the pain in my head.

"Laugh all you want," she answers darkly. "You won't be laughing soon enough." She brings the iron closer to me, and I can feel the heat radiating off of it. "Let me see her hand."

The third girl forces my arm up to expose my hand. I instinctively close it into a fist, which earns me another slam against the wall. I almost pass out this time when my head hits the wall. Lights swirl through darkness as my vision clouds again, but this time it's taking longer to clear. In my confusion my hand uncurls itself. I try brace myself for the pain, but nothing happens.

"I think we should all leave now, da?" a voice says. I still can't see, but I can tell its a guy from the timber of the voice. He sounds familiar, although I can't exactly place it.

I feel hands let go of me, and footsteps echo through the stairwell as the girls run away. What could've scared them so much? I lean on the wall for support until my vision clears up. I'm greeted by the sight of Ivan smiling down at me with his creepy grin.

"Hello (y/n). That was a close one, da?"

"Um, yeah," I say. "Why...why are you here?"

"Alfred asked me to find you and tell you that he has a meeting with his guidance counselor, and won't be able to walk with you," Ivan explains. "Unfortunately, I got lost." He lets out a weird laugh. "Looks like I found you just in time."

I don't dwell on the fact that he's a senior and still gets lost in the school. "Yeah, thanks."

"We should go to class now I think."

"Probably," I answer as I try to get off the wall. My legs are shaking, and my head is pounding like crazy.

"Are you alright?" Ivan asks. He sounds concerned, so I must look pretty bad.

"Yeah...yeah. I'll be fine...I just gotta...gotta..." My voice trails off because I can't think of what I'm supposed to say next. The pain in my head is starting to become unbearable. "Maybe I'm not..."

I never finish my sentence because I black out and fall toward the floor.

I wake up in the nurse's office lying on a bed. I turn my head slightly and wince. It still hurts like crazy. I try to sit up, but the room starts spinning, so I lay back down until the dizziness fades.

"I would just take it easy," the nurse says as she walks in the room. "You got a pretty nasty bump on the head."

"How did I get here?" I ask. At least talking doesn't hurt.

"That big football boy carried you here," she says. "He said he had found you passed out in a staircase."

"Yeah, I remember something like that." So Ivan hadn't mentioned the girls. Probably for the best.

"You must've tripped down the stairs on your way to class and hit your head," the nurse speculates. "Poor thing."

"That makes sense. I had gotten out of class late so I was hurrying to my next one," I fib. The last thing I need is for those girls to come after me again for ratting them out.

The nurse nods in agreement. "Well just take it easy now. You can stay here as long as you need. You're probably going to have to get tested for a concussion."

"A concussion?" I repeat in a panic. "I can't have a concussion! I'm marching in the field show in a few days!"

"I'm sorry dear, but you won't be doing anything of the sort if you have a concussion." She looks apologetic. "The athletic trainer comes in after school and you can ask him to test you."

My head feels like it's going to explode after my little rant, so I just nod my head. Actually, I have no plans to see the trainer. Concussion or no, I'm marching.

"I'm feeling better now," I tell the nurse. "I think I'll try to go back to class." I sit up and do my best not to swoon at the dizziness.

"Alright. If you think so. Let me get you a pass." She walks out of the room to find you a pass.

That was the worst rehearsal of my life. Ever. It's not that the band was performing poorly. Quite the contrary. They look and sound the best they have so far. The routines are coming together nicely, and I'm confident they'll look great. Me, on the other hand, is not looking so hot.

I walk off the field with the band at the end of rehearsal. I'm starting to think that maybe I do have a concussion after all because I'm having a lot of trouble marching. I could do all of the basic stuff without much trouble, but as soon as we start playing, moving, or both, I feel dizzy. I probably looked awful, and I definitely feel awful. But, I'm determined to push through it though for the sake of the band.

I meet up with Alfred after putting my instrument away. I teeter slightly as I walk out the door, and he notices. I can tell by the concerned look that comes over his face.

"Are you okay (y/n)?" Alfred asks. "You're not looking so good."

"Me? Yeah, I'm good. Fine...totally fine," I say as convincingly as I can. It's not working though.

"Don't act like nothing's wrong," he says and folds his arms. "Ivan told me what happened."

"Oh." Well I guess there's no point in trying to convince him I'm fine then. "Yeah, but you can't stop me from marching. Concussion or no."

His eyes widen. "You have a concussion?" Shoot, I had forgotten he didn't know about that.

"Well, technically I don't know. But I think...maybe...I think I might," I say with much difficulty.

"You shouldn't be marching (y/n) if you have a concussion," Alfred chides. "What if you pass out on the field?"

"They'll just...just march...over...over me..." I start to stumble forward, and Alfred uncrosses his arms just in time to catch me. "Sorry," I mumble.

"Let's get you home," he says. I know he's worried, but nothing's going to stop me from marching for homecoming.


	14. Day 2

It turns out doing anything with a concussion isn't that easy. I'm finding out the hard way that, if I do have a concussion, it's going to make life rather difficult for a while. Every time I stand up after sitting in class for a while I get dizzy, and my balance is off. Sometimes, when we're walking down the halls hand in hand, Alfred has to pull or push me back into a straight position because I was starting to lean too far. He's not too happy about me still marching.

"You really should get checked out," he says in a low voice. He's trying to make sure the others at our lunch table don't hear, but it doesn't work.

"Get what checked out?" Arthur says suspiciously.

"Yeah. I'd like to know what's going on too," Vash says as he narrows his eyes.

"Um, well you see...we can explain...uh...well..." Stupid brain! This isn't the time to get all fuzzy on me.

"Are you feeling dizzy again? Nauseous?" Alfred asks me. I just put my head down on the table until the spinning stops.

"Dizzy...nauseous...oh my gosh." Arthur's eyes become impossibly wide. "Did you get (y/n) pregnant?" he growls through clenched teeth at Alfred.

Alfred and I look at each other, and then at Arthur. We both start laughing at the same time.

"It's not funny!" Arthur yells. "This is serious!"

Everyone at the table look at each other uncomfortably as we laugh. Feli is the only one that seems oblivious to what's going on. Kiku and Ludwig look nervous, but they keep quiet. Lili and Vash just look on in shock, and Arthur looks like he's going to murder Alfred.

"No, no. You got it all wrong," I tell him when I'm done laughing. "I might have a concussion, that's all. I'm not pregnant weirdo."

"Oh," is all Arthur says. He turns a bright shade of red and mumbles, "Sorry about that."

"How did you get a concussion?" Vash asks confused. I give him a look that'll hopefully jog his memory. "Oh, that's right," he says when he remembers.

"Wait, I wanna know what happened too," Alfred chimes in.

"I thought Ivan told you," I reply confused.

He shakes his head. "He only told me about catching you as you passed out and taking you to the nurse's office."

I look around the table at everyone's anxious faces. Guess I can't keep this a secret anymore. I tell them the story, and do my best to not pause when I start to feel light headed. I'm in better condition than yesterday, so the dizzy spells are becoming fewer and further between. The reactions from my friends vary when I finish.

Alfred, Arthur, and Vash are mad. "If I ever see those girls again..." Vash mumbles to himself. "I'm so sorry I left you (y/n). If I had known..."

"It's okay Vash," I say with a small smile. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt to."

Feli and Lili look scared. "They're not going to come after me are they Ludwig?" Feli asks, apparently terrified. I'm not the only one at the table that sweat drops or facepalms.

"Of course not!" Ludwig snaps. He starts poking the goofy kid on the forehead. "Start using your brain a little more! I'm sure there's something like that in here."

Ludwig and Kiku are the only relatively calm ones. They still look a little tense. "We're sorry our fans caused you trouble Miss (y/n)," Kiku says to me. He bows slightly at me from across the table.

"Oh, it's fine," I say a little embarrassed. I'm not used to people treating me so formally.

"What about homecoming?" Arthur asks the million dollar question.

"I'm gonna march," I answer simply.

"You can't march with a concussion," Vash protests.

"I don't know much about band, but I agree with him," Ludwig adds. "We get players with concussions all the time in football, and it's best if you rest (y/n)."

"I have to march," I insist. "I'll be letting everyone down if I don't. You guys need me."

Vash and Arthur look at each other uncomfortably. They know what I'm saying is true. Trying to rework my squad to function without its leader on such short notice is next to impossible.

"Just...don't overdo it," my co-section leader says with a sigh. He doesn't look happy about the decision.

"I'll be fine," I promise, "but thanks for caring." I smile and get up as the bell rings to signal the end of our lunch. Alfred takes my hand, and the two of us walk to band.

By the end of our evening rehearsal I'm beginning to regret my choice of staying on the field. My head is pounding like crazy from all of the loud music, and I'm short on breath. The sax player next to me in my squad has been warned to keep an eye on me by a worried Arthur. I see him watch me huff and puff from the corner of my eye.

"Are you alright?" he whispers. We're at attention, so technically we shouldn't be talking.

"Y-yeah," I tell him quietly. "Just...peachy." I'm doing my best to stand up nice and straight with my instrument out, but I'm shaking all over. I do my best to will my body to hold its position.

"At ease!" Mr. Rome says the magical words over the speakers. I let out a big sigh, and lean over as I breathe heavily some more, while listening to the director. "We're looking really great out there everyone! Lets keep up the good work, and we'll be a big hit for sure this year! You're all dismissed," he announces with a big smile.

Almost everyone takes off for the band room. Several of the section leaders stay behind, and walk toward me concerned. Alfred also rushes over from the bleachers to help me.

"What's the matter dear?" Elizabeta asks. "You're not looking so good."

"It's nothing," I tell her. "I'm fine." I've finally caught my breath, so hopefully that makes me look less pathetic.

"Are you sure?" Alfred asks me. "Cuz you know, concussions aren't-"

"Ai-yah!" Yao interrupts. "You have a concussion (y/n)?"

I look around helplessly. Looks like the cat's out of the bag. Again. I nod to answer Yao's question. "Well, we think that's what it is anyway."

Elizabeta gasps. "You shouldn't be marching then! What are you thinking?"

Arthur steps in and answers for me. "She's going to be fine Elizabeta. You know she won't quit no matter what we say." Vash silently nods in agreement.

Elizabeta sighs disapprovingly. "Alright. If you say so."

My group starts walking back to the band room in an uneasy silence. Once, on the way back, I stumble over a rock, and everyone flips out. It's takes forever to calm them back down. Arthur and Elizabeta look like they're going to have a nervous breakdown by the time we get to the school.

"You keep a close eye on her," Elizabeta instructs Alfred and Arthur. "On and off the field." She's radiating a threatening, no nonsense kind of energy.

"Yes ma'am," the two answer nervously in unison. She looks satisfied and walks away to stash her instrument in its case.

The other section leaders also disperse to put their things away. I find my way to my case and put my sax in it. Then I put the case in my locker. I stand up slowly to try to prevent a dizzy spell, but I still end up swaying on my feet. Luckily Alfred is there, and he steadies me before I fall over.

"Are you okay (y/n)?"

"Yeah...yeah I'm fine now," I say as my head clears. "It's not as bad as it was yesterday." We start walking to the door.

"Okay," Alfred says and sighs in relief. "You scare me sometimes you know that."

"What do you mean?" I ask as we walk out of the band room together.

"Well when it looks like you're going to fall over or pass out on the field, that's scary," he says. "And then there's the way you tell people that you'll keep marching no matter what. Your determination is scary too." He laughs, "HAHAHA! Sometimes you look like you're going to murder someone in their sleep."

"You'll be first," I tell him jokingly.

"Aww man," Alfred whines. He makes a pouty face at me.

"Okay, okay!" I tell him with a laugh. "I'll get Ar...th...Arthur first." I wobble slightly as the ground starts to shift under me. Alfred grabs my arm quick, and the feeling passes. "Thanks."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks again.

"Yes. Trust me, I'll be even better by tomorrow," I reassure him. "Now let's get moving before the ground starts spinning again."

Before I can take another step, Alfred scoops me up in his arms. "I'll carry you like a hero! Now you won't fall over anymore," he says and plants a kiss on my forehead. I blush as he easily carries me to his truck in his strong arms. Usually I would protest something like this, but given the current situation I'll gladly accept.

Somehow Alfred manages to open the passenger door, and he gently sets me down on the seat. "Not bad for a football player, huh?" he says teasingly with a wink.

"Thanks Alfred," I tell him and smile.

Alfred frowns at me. "I think a hero deserves more thanks than that." He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

I can tell what he's getting at, and after all the help he's been I think he deserves it. I motion for him to come closer with my finger, which he happily obliges. I lean in and give him a kiss on his soft lips. He licks my bottom lip with his tongue, and I nip at it. He's not getting in that easily. Alfred's hand moves through my hair, and comes to rest just above my neck. I clutch the front of his shirt and pull him closer, which makes him growl. I could really get used to this whole kissing thing. It's even better than the hand holding.

We break for air briefly, and right as we do another wave of dizziness hits me. Ugh, stupid concussion. Alfred holds my hand firmly as we wait for my head to clear. It helps having something to ground me to the real world when everything starts spinning. Finally I look up at Alfred and smile faintly.

"I'm good now. Thanks."

"No problem," he responds with a grin. "Time to go?"

"Yup," I say in agreement. "Let's get going."


	15. Day 1

My dizziness hasn't really gotten any better like I had hoped. It hasn't gotten any worse either, so I guess it's not all that bad. I really just wish people would stop looking at me like I'm a cripple or something. Alfred carries my lunch tray for me, and I'm sure he'd carry my backpack too if I asked him to. I won't though since I'm not one of those people who milk their injuries for favors.

I get to our table without a dizzy spell, and sit down next to Alfred. Our table used to be split with football players on one side and band geeks on the other. We've managed to mingle a little more now, so I sit by Alfred. Arthur sits on my other side next to Kiku. Those to have become really good friends in the course of this week. It must be the whole gentleman thing. On the other side of the table Lili sits next to Vash, who is next to Ludwig. He and Vash also get along well. The strong silent type I guess. On the end is Feli who sits across from me. I enjoy messing with him sometimes, which is something Ludwig doesn't always appreciate.

"Feeling better?" Arthur asks me after I sit down.

"Yes and no," I reply.

"Still up for marching?"

"Of course," I say as I narrow my eyes. "You're not going to talk me out of marching tomorrow Arthur, so don't even try."

He sighs in defeat. "I know, but I can't help but try."

"Well thanks for being worried," I say reassuringly. I turn to my other side to see what Alfred's been doing. "What the heck Alfred?" He had cut up my pizza into bite size pieces.

"There!" he says with a satisfied grin. "Now it'll be easier for you to eat."

I facepalm. On second thought, that was probably a bad idea because it makes my head hurt. "I'm not physically disabled Alfred. I can eat lunch like a normal person."

"Oh, I guess you're right," he says. He scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. "I just wanted to help out any way I could."

I reach up and pat his head. "Aren't you sweet." He instantly brightens. I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging.

The rest of the school day goes by without incident. I made it through band, and several more dizzy spells, without falling over. I'll admit that it's hard to concentrate in my classes, but I'm determined not to let this concussion slow me down.

I do my best to make it through our evening rehearsal. So far it's going well. The band goes through the show flawlessly over and over again. People are getting really pumped about the game and performance tomorrow. I can feel the energy buzzing off the field, and if we bring this kind of intensity tomorrow, it'll be our best show yet. It would be nice to finish my marching band career with an amazing show.

I don't have much time to reflect on my final year in high school because Mr. Rome announces that we'll be running the field show again. We hustle to the opposite sideline from the home bleachers for our march on. I work on keeping my breathing even and staying balanced as we wait for the signal to begin.

Mr. Rome finally seems satisfied with the work we put into the show after the fifth time running it, and calls us all together for a pep talk. "I know homecoming isn't until tomorrow, but we won't have time for a group huddle like this until after the show," he tells us. "I'm so proud of all of the work I've seen you put in, especially the section leaders. I also would like to give a shout out to the seniors and juniors as well for taking the cute little sophomores and freshmen under their proverbial wings. And how about a round of applause for the drum majors?" Everyone claps along with Mr. Rome, who's wacky personality is starting to show. "I'm so excited for the game tomorrow! We'll outshine those football players for sure this year! That'll teach Germania!" He pauses his rant and turns toward the bleachers. "No offense Alfred!" Alfred waves in acknowledgement. "Where was I...? Oh yes. We're going to kick some butt out there on the field tomorrow, I can feel it. Now who's ready for homecoming?"

The band erupts in excited shouts. It gives me a headache, but I shout along too.

"Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" Mr. Rome yells back. "Now..." he says quietly. He looks around excitedly without talking to hold us in suspense. "We get to go home!" he shouts excitedly.

The band responds even louder to this than before, and everyone runs off the field. Some of us roll our eyes at Mr. Rome's dramatics before walking away calmly. I'm just glad I can get away from all the loud noises. Alfred walks back to the band room with me, and to my surprise, a lot of kids say hi to him. They've never really acknowledged him like this before.

"Kick the Bulldogs' butts for us!" some kids tell him.

"Go out there and show them West High is king!" others say enthusiastically.

"You better win, you git, or else," Arthur tells him as he walks out the door.

Alfred is grinning from ear to ear the whole time people approach him with comments. His answers are always something like, "We'll do our best," or, "You can count on it!". To Arthur he says, "I will. I'm the hero after all."

Arthur just nods and continues out the door. Maybe he's finally moving past their disagreement.

I put my stuff away as quickly as I can. The band room is almost empty since it took me so long to walk back from the field. Alfred helps me stay balanced as we walk to his truck. Being tired must make my balance worse because it's harder to stand up straight now than before rehearsal.

"All set?" Alfred asks when we're both buckled in.

"Yup," I answer tiredly. I can't wait to get to sleep. He grabs my hand as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow," he says excitedly. "You guys are gonna be great!"

"I'm sure you guys will be awesome too," I tell him. "You've got a great team this year."

He nods in agreement. "Definitely!" It's quiet for a few minutes until Alfred laughs rather loudly. "HAHAHA!" He squeezes my hand tightly. "I'm so nervous at the same time (y/n)."

I squeeze his hand back. "I know, and I am too...but I'm sure it'll be just fine either way."

"You think so?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," I say with a yawn. "Cuz either way we'll still have each other," I mumble sleepily. I never hear his response, if he even does, because I quickly fall asleep. The last thing I remember is feeling another tight squeeze from Alfred's big hand.


	16. Homecoming: Part 1

The band room is a mad house as people run around getting uniforms and instruments. We have the homecoming parade to march in right after school, so everyone is getting ready. I had already changed into some athletic shorts and a white shirt before coming, but some people are doing that now in a practice room while someone else stands guard. I make my way through a mess of people to the uniform room to get my stuff. I have to wait in line for a while.

"Number 27," I tell one of the girls working in the room when I get to the front of the line. They don't let us all in there because it would get too messy and crowded. The girl disappears for a few moments before returning with my uniform.

"There you go," she says before helping the person in line behind me.

I take my uniform, hat, and shoes to a chair in the saxophone row that already has my instrument case under it. It's probably better to take my instrument out first, then put my uniform on, I decide. I set my sax aside when I finish putting the mouthpiece and neck strap on it, and get to work changing.

Our marching uniforms consist of overall like pants and a heavy jacket that are both made out of durable fabric. The pants zip up in the front, and are a navy blue with a white stripe down each side. I put those on first. Then I put on my pair of white marching shoes, or at least they used to be white. Four years of marching have left them scuffed and stained around the bottom, so they're not as white as they were when I was a freshman. Next I put on my jacket. I adjust it around my shoulders before zipping it up. It's white with long navy sleeves that have white cuffs and good trim. Brass buttons make two diagonal lines from the chest to the waist on the front, and a brass chain goes from each shoulder to just under the stiff collar. The last thing I put on is my navy colored hat, or shako. I do my best to tuck all of my hair up in it, and strap it into place. The tall, white feathered plume on top flutters every time I move my head.

I carefully put my neck strap on over my hat and clip my sax to it. Almost everyone else is fully dressed too. I pull a pair of white gloves out of my uniform bag and slip them on as Mr. Rome gets on the podium to talk.

"Okay gang, we don't have much time. We need to load up the buses and get to the beginning of the parade soon, so do whatever else you need done now. And good luck to everyone!"

A few of the underclassmen nervously finish their final preparations. The veterans are in their seats all ready to go. One of the drum majors announces that the buses have arrived, and everyone files out to get on. I sit next to Vash on the bus there. Lucky for us it's not that far to the beginning of the parade. It starts at the city hall downtown and ends at the high school.

We arrive in time to see some of the football team loading into the bed of Alfred's truck. They team usually leads the parade with players in trucks or walking. I watch Alfred get out of his truck and walk over to us excitedly.

"Which one of you is (y/n)?" he asks.

I raise my gloved hand. "Over here silly!"

His eyes brighten when he recognizes me. "(Y/n)!" he shouts as he jogs to me. "It's hard to tell it's you in that get up."

"Yeah, I bet it is." I have to tilt my head quite a ways up to see him properly past the visor on my shako.

"Aren't you hot?" Alfred asks concerned. "You're not feeling dizzy are you?"

"I'm fine actually," I tell him a bit surprised. "I haven't been dizzy in a while."

"Cool," he says with a grin. "Well I gotta get going. The parade's about to start, and we're in the front. Good luck!" He waves as he runs back to his car.

The air vibrates with the sound of multiple engines roaring to life as the football team, and other groups, pull their cars out of the city hall parking lot and onto the blocked off street. The band watches the different clubs and sports leave the lot with their floats before getting into ranks to march ourselves.

We wait patiently for the attention whistle before snapping to attention. A few moments later the step off whistle is given, and the entire band takes their first step on the left foot. The drum line also begins to play cadences as we step off and out of the parking lot. Not far from city hall we start to see people sitting on the yards and sidewalks next to the street. That's when the drum line gives us a roll off to begin playing.

This year's parade piece is an arrangement of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles. A lot of the adults get really into it, and many song along as we march past. I feel a little short of breath when we finish the piece, but nothing out of the ordinary. We march a little further before playing again. I can hear people commenting on our professionalism, and many are impressed that we play by memory.

I can definitely tell I'm not doing so well after the fourth time playing our song. We're almost to the high school, so I will myself to just keep marching. I do my best to march in a straight line with proper posture. The two people marching on either side of me give me concerned glances when they hear me breathing heavily, but they don't break attention. We've taught them well.

The band finally, finally, turns into the school's parking lot. We stop advancing in the middle of the parking lot, but still mark time. The drum like gives us a halt, and, in unison, everyone stops all movement. There's a few moments of silence before we break into cheers. I gratefully brace myself on my knees as I try to get my spinning head under control.

"We were great!" Arthur whoops as he runs up to me. His smile disappears when he sees the condition I'm in. "Are you okay (y/n)?"

"Yeah," I manage to get out between breaths. "Just...fine."

Vash, Elizabeta, and Yao also appear and look concerned.

"You overdid it, didn't you?" Elizabeta asks me.

"I'm...okay," I repeat. The ground has stopped swaying, and my breathing is becoming more normal.

"Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn't march in the field show," Yao suggests.

I'm sure he was trying to be helpful, but I'm sick of people trying to baby me. "I'm not going to sit out and let the low brass win section of the year again," I say as I glare at him.

He cowers behind Vash until Vash gets annoyed and shakes him off. I continue to glare at him until he runs away with a loud, "Ai-yah!"

"Don't be so mean to him (y/n)," Arthur says. "He's going to be upset enough as it is when we take section of the year from him."

I stand up straight and laugh. I'm feeling better now, so I start walking with the other section leaders. "Let's get out of these uniforms and hit the tailgate!"

Every year the school hosts a big tailgating party before the football game. It's actually not as lame as it sounds. They have a long line of grills in the parking lot going to keep up with the demand for food, and people bring their own trucks with grills too. This year Alfred invited me to hang out with him and his friends. I find Alfred's truck surrounded by a huge group of people.

"Hey (y/n)!" Alfred shouts from the bed of his truck. He's manning the gas grill that's been strapped to the back. "Come up here."

I push my way through the crowd and climb up the side of the truck. "Sheesh, what a crowd," I say to Alfred. "Is it usually like this?"

"Pretty much," he answers with a grin. "Burger or hotdog?"

I think about it for a while before answering, "Burger."

"A woman after my own heart," Alfred teases as he puts a burger on the bun I'm holding. There's bags of buns and chips all over the bed of the truck, so I just helped myself.

I blush and put some ketchup on my burger. The two of us are alone, and I'm glad no one could hear his comment. We chat, as I eat and he grills, when we're interrupted by an obnoxious laugh.

"Kesesesesesese! If it isn't (y/n). Long time no see," Gilbert says with a smirk.

"Hey Gilbert." I don't have any particular problem with him, but I'm not too fond of him either. "What do you want?"

"The awesome me just came to talk and get some food," the albino answers. "My group's hungry." He points to Francis and Toni flirting with some dance team/cheerleader girls.

"Grab whatever you want! There's plenty to go around," Alfred tells him from the grill. "Just don't make a mess, or we'll be in trouble."

"Like I would do something unawesome like that," Gilbert snorts. He loads up two plates of food and looks back at me. "So I hear you've been hanging out with West."

"You mean...uh...Ludwig, right?" I ask. My head is starting to pound again. Alfred notices my pause and looks at me with worry, but the grill quickly calls his attention back.

"Yeah! My little brother," Gilbert says with a grin. "Not as awesome as me, but he's cool, am I right?"

"Uh..." My head is really starting to pound now. "Yeah...he's cool..." Then an unexpected wave of nausea hits me. "I gotta leave," I say quietly and hop out of the truck. Gilbert watches me confused as I take off for the school.

The dizziness gets worse and worse with every step I take, and my legs are shaking pretty badly by the time I reach the school doors. I stumble through the hall looking for the bathroom. The ground buckles and heaves underneath me, and I fall against the wall. I force myself to keep moving toward the entrance to the bathroom. My head clears enough for me to stumble inside and get into a stall.

My stomach quickly empties itself into the toilet. I heave a few more times, but nothing comes up. I wipe my mouth off on some toilet paper and flush that down with the rest of my mess. I turn away from the porcelain bowl and sit with my head between my knees. My eyes flutter closed as I focus on breathing. Both my dizziness and nausea have passed, but I'm still shaking.

I jump in surprise when someone places a warm hand on my back. "Alfred," I say when I look up to see who it is. "What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you of course," he responds with a small smile.

"What about the grill?"

"I left Gilbert in charge," he answers simply.

"I bet he didn't like that," I mumble. "Your glasses are crooked." I notice the weirdest things sometimes.

Alfred adjusts his glasses with his free hand. "Probably cuz I sprinted here," he tells me. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I will, so don't try to talk me out of marching," I warn.

He sighs, but smiles. "I didn't think it would work anyway." He brushes some hair out of my face. I try not to think about how awful I must look right now.

"Wait, what are you doing in the girl's bathroom?" I ask him. "Creep."

Alfred chuckles. "Think again hun." He helps me stand on my unsteady feet, and walk out of the bathroom. He points to the sign next to the bathroom entrance as we walk out. It's the boy's bathroom.

"It was an emergency!" I say in my own defense. "I'm not a creep!"

"Oh, so when I go in the opposite bathroom, I'm the creep. But you can do it just fine," Alfred says jokingly.

"Yeah, something like that," I tell him and stick my tongue out.

"HAHAHA! Let's get back to the tailgate and get you something to drink," he says as he takes my hand. "You're probably dehydrated."


	17. Homecoming: Part 2

I do my best not too feel too nervous as the band, once again clad in their uniforms, marches up to the football stadium. Both sets of bleachers are packed today, except for the corner reserved for the band. I can imagine the band parents having to fight tooth and nail to keep people from sitting there. We play some peppy music after we get settled on the bleachers, but not many people pay attention to us. They've all got their eyes glued to the field where the two teams are warming up.

I guess that's understandable since it's homecoming, but I can't help but feel disappointed. Maybe people won't care after all. I watch the two teams on the field between songs. It's easy to spot Alfred because I recognize his number, 50, and his distinct ahoge. I glance over at the other team wearing their red and white uniforms. They strut around looking like arrogant, ignorant buffoons. I'm sure Alfred would agree with me on this one.

The band patiently waits as the announcer does his thing. "Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the homecoming game between the West High Eagles and the Hartland Bulldogs!" He pauses as both bleachers cheer loudly. A weird barking comes from the Bulldogs' bleachers across the field, and a lot of us roll our eyes. "We ask that you please remover your hats for the playing of the national anthem by the West High marching band."

I feel everyone tense before playing the song. We're all thinking the same thing, which is that we gotta impress them now or they'll ignore us later. I gotta say that we played one of the best Star Spangled Banners I've ever heard, and the crowd knew it too. The home bleachers cheer and whoop loudly while the away bleachers clap politely. The band carefully sits down as more announcements are made and the game begins.

There's another drum roll and cymbal crash as the kick off is made. The Bulldogs receive, but they're stopped in the middle of the field. I can clearly see Ivan get on the field with the rest of the defense, and I swear there's a murderous aura around him. The Bulldogs' offense can tell too because they don't put up much of a fight. Ivan easily breaks through their offensive lineman, but the quarterback is too quick for him to catch.

The two teams go back and forth for a while without scoring a single point. I look at the clock to see how much time we have left. There's still 3 minutes left in the first quarter, and we need to start warming up in the beginning of the second. I look back at the field nervously as our team sets up for a field goal. Feliciano's older brother steps up for the kick. It's going to be a tough one to make from the 45 yard line, but Coach Germania must know what he's doing. The crowd holds their breath as Lovino makes his run and kicks the ball high into the air. It flips end over end as it soars right between the two yellow uprights.

The home crowd goes wild as the electronic score board now reads 'Home: 3 Away: 0'. The two teams go back at it with a new determination. One team is riding a high, and the other is playing catch up. No real gains are made for the last few minutes of the quarter. Mr. Rome motions for the band to get up at the beginning of the second quarter.

I fight my dizziness as we break into sections in an open, grassy area next to the tall bleachers. I shake my head to clear it, and get a few worried looks from my section. Most of them had heard about my condition.

"Okay, now that we're all here, let's warm up," I say to everyone. We do some quick playing individually, and then we all play one of our pieces in unison.

"Let's not overdo it or we'll be worn out for the actual show," Arthur warns. "We have to do our best this year."

I look at my section with an overwhelming feeling of pride. "I know we've been through a lot this year. It hasn't been easy, and that's why I want you all to know how proud Arthur and I are." I pause as tears prick the corners of my eyes. "You've helped make this my best year in marching band yet, so I want everyone giving it 110% out there!"

"Remember what we've taught you, and the things we worked on," Arthur adds. "We have to get out there and show them what we're made of."

"Now who's ready to kick some major behind?" I yell. My section shouts back enthusiastically. "Then let's do this!" The other sections leaders are also getting their sections pumped, so the air is full of excited shouts.

Energy buzzes and flows through us as we wait for the clock to show the end of the first half. We have less than a 2 minutes left when I see something on the field that makes my blood run cold. Alfred's pass to Matthew was intercepted by a Bulldog player who is running to their end zone with no one to stop him. A riotous cheer explodes from the away fans when the player scores a touchdown, and another cheer fills the air when they make the free kick. We're now down 7-3 as the half ends.

The band's energy goes flat as we walk to the opposite sideline. How are we supposed to get everyone excited when we're losing? I look around at the nervous faces of my section, and the tense faces of the section leaders. This won't end well if we can't pull it together.

"Hey!" I bark out as we walk. "This isn't the end! There's still another half, and who's job is it to make sure they're pumped for it?" Several kids look up at me hopefully. "That's right, us! We need to get out there and show them West High doesn't back down from a fight! Are you with me?"

The band cheers excitedly, and we hurry to get in our positions with a newfound intensity. I smile at the energy flowing through the band once again thanks to my pep talk. I try to channel that energy to keep me standing straight as we wait for our turn on the field. The cheerleaders and dance team are doing a combined performance on the field right now, and the crowd is hooting and whistling at them.

Their music stops and they take their final pose as the crowd cheers wildly. The nervous tension from the band increases as they vacate the field for us. We stand at rest on the sideline as the drum majors march across the field to their ladders. Once they climb on their step ladders they signal for us to snap at attention and step off. The drum line plays a special cadence for our march on.

Everyone does a crisp pivot as they step onto the field, and the band gets into our first formation, which is a giant spiral on the field. When we're all where we're supposed to be, the drum majors halt us, and we wait for the announcer to introduce us and our pieces.

"Here is the West High marching band about to perform their halftime field show. This year's theme is "Rock Hard, Play Hard". Their first piece is an arrangement of "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey." The crowd murmurs excitedly as they recognize the song.

The drum majors give us the signal to start, and we fill the stadium with some upbeat rock. We move from the spiral to two vertical lines that rotate in opposite directions as the piece continues. We then move into two circles where there's a smaller one inside of the other. The outside circle spins one direction as the inside spins in the other. The crowd cheers as they see what we're doing, and pick up on our intensity. The two circles stop moving as the song comes to a close. Both bleachers cheer for us as the announcer speaks again.

"Give it up for the West High marching band! The next piece they're going to play is an arrangement of "The Final Countdown" by Europe." The crowd buzzes with excitement at another recognizable song.

I breathe heavily as I wait for the starting signal. My head is starting to spin, but I force myself to ignore it and stand still. I'm not going to let my silly concussion get in the way of our big night. The drum majors finally give us our starting whistle, and the drum line opens the piece. It quickly picks up in intensity, and people cheer like crazy. They really are watching us like we had hoped. The band moves from the two circles into two lines near the sideline closest to the home stands. I can see Alfred cheering, and jumping around like a little kid. Once the band is in position, we do the wave down our two lines and back again. Each squad has to bend down and hop lightly to create the awesome effect. The crowd goes nuts and starts doing a wave of their own. The song ends with the band still in our two rows, and the crowd cheers louder than before. I try not to focus on the headache I'm starting to get from the noisy crowd. The announcer booming from the sound system doesn't help either.

"Let's give them a hand folks! Their final piece tonight is an all time classic. They'll be playing an arrangement of "We Will Rock You" by Queen." The crowd cheers again.

The song starts out with a single snare drum playing two hits, and a cymbal player lightly bringing their cymbals together. Everyone else in the band breaks formation and starts stomping around the field. After every two stomps we clap our hands, and pretty soon the crowd picks up on it. I focus on stomping without looking like I'm going to pass out. My head is getting all fuzzy, and my stomach feels queasy again. Soon the low brass enter in with the familiar sounds of "We Will Rock You". Some people in the crowd start singing along. The band stops stomping and gets into a large diamond shape on the field. We also join the low brass to play as the drum line and the crowd keep the stomping and clapping beat. Shouts of "We will, we will rock you!" echo around the stadium as both the home and away crowd starts singing at the top of their lungs. Everyone in the stadium is going crazy, and the energy level is through the roof. As the final notes of the song fade away, both crowds erupt in a frenzied cheer. I've never seen people get so excited over us before.

We stay in attention for the final announcement of our show, which is the one we've all been waiting for. "What a spectacular show this year!" The announcer yells over the crowd. "The last thing we need to do is announce which section will be crowned section of the year. I've been told this section works hard both on and off the field with great enthusiasm. This year's winner is..." Everyone in the stadium has gone quiet with anticipation. My head is pounding, but I anxiously stand still and wait with everyone else. "...the saxophone section! Congratulations!" I turn to look at Arthur across the field, and our section breaks attention to meet in a group in front of the band.

"We did it!" Arthur yells over our section's excited screaming. "We actually did it!" He laughs triumphantly and jumps around with the rest of our section. Everyone is laughing and hugging and yelling.

I smile at their antics, then immediately pass out.

When I come to, I'm lying on the floor in the band room with section leaders, my parents, my sister, and some paramedics standing over me. Everyone looks relieved when I open my eyes.

"Don't scare us like that (y/n)!" Arthur scolds. I know he's actually glad I woke up.

"I was scared!" Kate whimpers. She hugs me as I sit up.

"Don't ever do that again," my dad says with a relieved sigh, but he still looks worried. "What happened out there?"

"Well..." I hesitate and look around at the crowd. "I may or may not have a concussion," I admit.

"When did this happen?" my mom gasps.

"Tuesday."

"Why didn't you tell us?" she scolds.

"Because I knew you wouldn't let me march, and I had to march."

My parents look at each other and sigh. "Well what's done is done," my dad says.

"Do you think you need to go to the hospital to get checked out?" one of the paramedics asks me.

I shake my head. "Not now. I have to get back to the game." I turn to look at Arthur and Vash. "How long was I out?"

"Maybe 20 minutes. It took us a while to carry you here," Vash informs me.

"I still have time to see the end of the game." I jump to my feet, and sway as I'm hit by some dizziness.

"Take it easy (y/n)," Arthur tells me.

"I don't have time," I grumble back. I take my uniform off and put it away as fast as I can. I throw my instrument in its case, and am about to put it away when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll do that honey," my mom says. "Go. He needs you, doesn't he."

I nod my thanks and take off for the stadium. I arrive completely out of breath, and hang onto the fence around the outside of the field as I steady my breathing. The score is still 7-3, and the Bulldogs are in possession of the ball. Little by little they scoot closer and closer to the end zone. It's the fourth down when we get a lucky break. Ivan breaks through their offensive lineman again, and, this time, the quarterback isn't fast enough to get away. Ivan tackles him to the ground with a sickening crunch.

The home crowd goes wild as our offense takes to the field. There's only about 2 minutes left on the clock. I clench the metal fence nervously as Alfred receives the hiked ball. He quickly hands it off to Kiku who tries for some rushing yards. We only advance 5 yards, and have another 65 to go for a touchdown. The clock is quickly running out, and so are the Eagles' options.

They break their huddle and get into their positions. Alfred gets the ball and starts backing up. I watch as he moves back and forth, but doesn't throw it. What is he waiting for? Ludwig and the other linemen are doing their best to keep the Bulldogs' defense back, but they won't hold much longer. That's when I see what Alfred's waiting for. Matthew is sprinting down the field as fast as he possibly can toward the end zone. When he's 20 yards away, Alfred launches the ball in the air just before being tackled to the ground.

The crowd holds their breath as the ball spirals through the air. I almost can't watch. The ball falls right into Matthew's waiting arms as he runs across the end line. The home stands go ballistic as the score is changed to 10-7 with the Eagles leading. I yell along with everyone as the clock runs down to 0. We did it! We won! People from the bleachers come pouring out and crowd around the fence. I'm being pushed and shoved as people try to get closer to the field.

"What an amazing game ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer shouts. "The Eagles just barely manage to scoot ahead and pull off a victory! Better luck next year Bulldogs because the homecoming game goes to West High!"

A mic is brought down to the field, and someone interviews a few players. I can hear Ludwig and Lovino talking over the noise of the crowd. Everyone stops pushing and goes quiet when Alfred's given the mic.

"So what helped motivate you today Alfred?" the interviewer asks. "I'm sure everyone's dying to know what the star quarterback thinks about to get pumped."

"Well, I'd have to say that seeing the effort the band put in today, and these past few weeks, has been a real motivator for me," I hear him say. "They did great tonight! But my main drive to play well, I'd have to say, is a certain girl who is completely dedicated to something she loves." Many people in the crowd look at me. I try not to make eye contact with them. "I'm not sure where she is, since they carried her off, but (y/n) showed me the true meaning of dedication these last two weeks, and that's what inspired me to do my best."

The crowd slowly begins to part in front of me. They create a path from me to the opening in the fence. I can see Alfred watching from the field, and he smiles widely when he sees me. I take a few slow steps at first, but then I quickly run to him. I jump into his waiting arms and he spins me around a few times.

"How did we do?" he whispers in my ear.

"You were amazing," I whisper back.

"Just like you," he says before kissing me in front of the entire crowd. They all go nuts of course, and there's plenty of whistling going on too. Alfred pulls back first and rests his forehead on mine. It's like we're the only two people in the whole stadium, or even the whole world.

His sparkling blue eyes makes my heart skip a beat. "My hero," I whisper.

~The End~


	18. Epilogue

I would never outright admit to Alfred that I had forgotten about the homecoming dance, but I had indeed forgotten about the homecoming dance. I'm on my way home from the doctor Saturday morning when I get a text from Elizabeta.

{ Hey (y/n)! Need some help getting ready 4 the dance? }

I look over at my mom in a panic. "Mom! I forgot about the dance tonight!"

"Forgot?" she asks confused. "How did you forget something like that?"

"Well, I guess I just got so busy with marching and this whole concussion business that it...uh...slipped my mind," I admit sheepishly.

"So you don't have a dress?" Wow mom, straight to the point.

"Yeah."

She sighs and turns the car into a parking lot to turn around. "We can't let you go to your last homecoming without a dress, now can we?" She glances over at me as I text Elizabeta a response. "Are you sure you'll be up for that with a concussion?"

"The doctor said it was only a minor concussion. I'll be fine mom. It's not like I'm doing another field show." I try to sound as convincing as possible.

"I knew you'd say something like that," mom says. She drives in the direction of some of the clothing stores in town. I don't get to answer because my phone buzzes.

[ hey! so i scored us a reservation 4 dinner 2nite! i'll c u at 4:30 ]

I was expecting it to be Elizabeta, but it was from Alfred. "At least he didn't forget," I murmur to myself as I type back a response.

Alfred arrives at my house at 4:25, and knocks on the door. My dad answers, of course, and invites him inside. I can hear the two of them talking about the homecoming game as I carefully walk down the stairs. Alfred has his back to me, so I say something to spook him.

"You're here early Alfred." He jumps at the sudden proximity of my voice.

"Dude! I almost dropped your corsage!" he exclaims as he turns around. "Well, you always said early is on time, and on time is late," he says after regaining his composure.

"I guess you're right," I say with a smile. Alfred smiles back as he takes a beautiful white corsage out of a box and slips it around my wrist. I look at it closely and see it's made out of white roses, baby's breath, and a few small white lilies. "It's beautiful," I breathe.

"It looks better when you wear it," Alfred tells me. "I'm glad it matches the dress since I completely forgot to ask," he say embarrassed. "At least white matches everything."

I nod as I glance down at my newly purchased dress. My mom and I had a tough time finding anything decent, but we had found this in the back of a rack full of other pretty weird looking dresses. My dress is a dark blue halter top that goes down to just around my knees. There's white lace and frills accenting the left side of it, which matches the corsage.

"Picture time!" my mom announces as she and Kate walk into the room. I'm not overly fond of pictures, but I figure I'll look decent since Elizabeta helped me with the makeup and hair.

I stand next to Alfred as my mom snaps a few pictures.

"Closer," she instructs us. "Closer," she says again after me move. "A little bit closer."

I am literally standing as close to Alfred as I can. Senior year or not, if she tells me to move closer one more time I'm going to walk away. Alfred must sense my growing tension because he gently wraps his arm around my waist in a soothing way. My mom starts snapping away again.

"Finally," I say when my mom finishes.

"It wasn't that bad hun," Alfred teases and places a kiss on top of my head. The camera flashes again.

"MOM!"

I'm relieved to finally get out of that house. Alfred has reservations for a nice restaurant in town, so he drives us there after we get in his truck. The place is packed full of people. Some are other high schoolers with their homecoming dates and others are just adults out to eat. We get our table and look at the menu. I'm not feeling super hungry, but I'm not going get just a salad either.

"I'll take a chicken wrap," I tell the waiter when he takes our orders. Alfred gets a burger. A really big burger.

"Are you going to be able to finish that?" I ask him after the waiter leaves.

"HAHAHA!" he laughs. "I've eaten bigger." I can tell by his face that he's not joking. "I didn't get a chance to really say this earlier, but you look amazing (y/n)."

I blush and take a nervous sip of water. "Thanks. Elizabeta did it."

"Well, not just that," he explains. "I've never really seen you all dressed up like this, but it suits you. Just like marching with the band suits you. It's what makes you amazing."

I blush a darker red. "You look good too," I say in an attempt to get the attention away from me. "I've never seen you dressed up before either."

I look at Alfred who's wearing a white dress shirt with black slacks. He has on a dark blue tie with a swirly design on it. I assume he just wore school colors, but the funny thing is that his colors are like an inverse of mine, so we kind of match.

"Thanks!" he says with a big grin.

Our food arrives soon after, and we're too busy eating to talk much. I finish before Alfred, but he's still going strong. The burger he's eating is already more than half gone, and the fries have completely disappeared.

"That hits the spot," Alfred says after draining his coke. His plate is now empty.

"I still can't believe you ate the whole thing," I say with a shake of my head. "Unbelievable."

"You should have more faith in your hero," he says with a wink.

The two of us leave after paying the bill, or I should say after Alfred pays the bill. There's already a line forming outside of the high school when we arrive. We stand at the back of the line as we wait for it to become 6:30. The dance starts then and goes until 10:00. I begin to panic when I remember we don't have tickets. I really didn't prepare for this at all. Alfred pulls two out of his wallet and waves them in front of my face.

"You really are my hero," I tell him with a laugh.

The line begins to move as they start letting people in, and after a long wait we finally get inside. I check in my shoes at the coat and bag check before going into the gym where the dance is. I may have only had flats on, but even those get uncomfortable after a while.

The theme for the homecoming dance this year is 'Oriental Sunset', so the gym is decorated with paper lanterns and folding paper doors. The lighting is low, and a crowd is already forming by the DJ, who is pumping out some dance music. I'm not really big on dancing, and luckily neither is Alfred. We're about to go find all the food when we run into some familiar faces.

"(Y/n)! Alfred! You guys look great!" Elizabeta exclaims. She looks stunning in a floor length dress that flows around her when she walks. "Did you guys just get here?"

"Yeah," we shout over the loud music. I notice Elizabeta is here with Roderich. "Is he your date?" I ask her.

"Yes!" she answers with shining eyes. "I couldn't believe it when he asked me!" I look over at Roderich again who gives me a nod. "Let's go dance!" Elizabeta shouts.

She drags the three of us out onto the dance floor. She starts moving to the beat while we watch.

"Come on!" she yells as she grabs my hand. Now I'm forced to dance with her. It's not that bad, but I don't think I'll ever do it again. I try to imitate Elizabeta as I swing my hips to the music. Alfred and Roderich just stand and watches either us or the large crowd in front of the DJ.

"Let's get some food!" Elizabeta suggests after a while. She drags us all out of the gym to find food.

The rest of the evening goes a lot like that. It's mostly Elizabeta dragging the rest of us around from place to place. We run into Arthur once. He had asked Lili to the dance. I'm surprised Vash said it was okay, but Arthur's not a bad guy so I guess it makes sense. We also see Gilbert and his gang, which doesn't make Roderich happy at all. Elizabeta does her best to avoid them after that. We watch along with everyone as they announce homecoming king and queen. I have no idea who the queen is, but Feliciano wins homecoming king. He runs off the stage and gives Ludwig a hug, but Ludwig doesn't look too happy about it. I don't see what else happens because Elizabeta drags us away to get more food.

Things start to wind down as it approaches 10:00. The DJ announces the final slow dance and plays some love song. Couples start pairing up on the dance floor, and everyone else starts to leave. Roderich expertly spins Elizabeta toward the dance floor, and they begin to dance.

"Would you like to dance?" Alfred asks. He holds out his hand to me. I smile and take it. I'm not a fan of dancing, but just one won't hurt.

Alfred puts his other hand on my waist and starts guiding us to the beat. He's not an amazing dancer like Roderich, but he doesn't just go in a circle like some other guys either. Things are going really well until I start to feel dizzy. I hold onto Alfred tighter as the ground starts spinning.

"Dizzy?" Alfred asks. I nod. "Here, come a little closer." He pulls me in and holds me tight. We stop taking actual steps and just sway to the music instead. "Better?"

"Better," I agree. Having Alfred around makes this a whole lot easier. "Alfred?"

"Yeah?" He looks down at me.

"I'm really glad I ran into you that day," I tell him. "At first I thought you were annoying, but now I'm really glad it was you."

"Yeah, I am too," he says and kisses the top of my head.

We dance together like that until the song ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we all made it to homecoming in one piece :) thank you to everyone who followed this story to the end. I appreciate it very much *bows* I can't thank you all enough for your continued support. Also a big shout out to all the band geeks that read this as well. You are awesome. And to the non-band geeks, you are awesome for putting up with all the band nonsense in this story. Everyone is awesome! :D If you liked this then feel free to read my other stories too, and I'll hopefully continue posting new stories as often as I can :3


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